


You're Creative Too

by coffeelings



Category: Wet Hot American Summer (2001), Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp (2015)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Flashbacks, Fluff, French Kissing, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Slash, Summer Camp, musical theater
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:04:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4555278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeelings/pseuds/coffeelings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of Ben and McKinley, falling in love from the first day to the last at Camp Firewood, summer of 1981. Also featured are multiple camp flashbacks, Beth making eyes at Henry over hot beverages, Victor Pulak running due to his own bad choices, sloppy Frenching, Gene nurturing his relationship with the fridge, Yiddish, and much, much more. </p><p>Added bonus: a slammin' tune (or multiple tunes) to go with some chapters in the notes, so you can read with a nice 80s soundtrack.</p><p>02/10: Hey all, I promise I'm still going to update. I've been out of the country and dealing with some things recently but rest assured a new chapter is on the horizon!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. June 24, 1981 - First Day of Camp, part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is mostly canon with a bunch of my interpretations filling the space between. Chapters vary in length and are scattered (maybe not that evenly) over the summer of '81. Some days take up multiple chapters. 
> 
> Wet Hot American Summer and Wet Hot American Summer: First Day of Camp are 100% NOT mine. Thank u David Wain and Michael Showalter for inspiring me to write more trash. Any dialogue in this that is lifted from the movie or Netflix series is 100% NOT mine.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of camp at Camp Firewood in the summer of '81, the fateful day, the day Ben falls in love. Part 1 of 2.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ben-focused chapter. Long. Contains some actual dialogue from WHAS: First Day of Camp, and plenty of in-between stuff. 
> 
> Chapter 1, part 1 soundtrack:  
> 7:08 AM: Solsbury Hill by Peter Gabriel  
> 11:40 AM: Never Going Back Again by Fleetwood Mac  
> 4:01 PM: Miracles by Jefferson Starship  
> 5:15 PM: My Cherie Amour by Stevie Wonder  
> 8:03 PM: Kiss On My List by Hall and Oates

7:08 AM

It took Ben about 30 full seconds to open his eyes once his alarm went off. During those 30 seconds, he almost regretted drinking the night before, but as he finally peeled his eyelids apart, decided he didn’t. As with each other morning during counselor training week, the mild nausea and pounding headache reminded him he was back at Camp Firewood, his favorite place in the world. At least, it was tied with his _other_ favorite place in the world, the Broadway Theater on 53 rd street in Manhattan. A few weeks before traveling back to Maine, Ben got to see _Evita_ there for his birthday. He road tripped from Philadelphia with Lisa Schwarz and Kimberly Lippman, his best friends from Hebrew School who happened to love musicals as much as he did, and nearly every night since the show he’d dreamt about meeting Andrew Lloyd Webber to learn the secrets of real Broadway productions.

Eventually, compelled by the thought of disappointing Susie or their seasoned guest Claude Dumet if he were even a second late for rehearsal, Ben got out of bed, slid on his sandals, and trudged to the showers to wash the stench of the previous night’s beer out of his skin. After seven summers, he still wasn’t entirely used to the Camp Firewood showers, which had a nasty habit of being freezing cold for the first half and scalding hot for the second half of any given shower. To get through this, Ben picked a different song to whistle every morning of camp. He settled on “Matchmaker, Matchmaker” from _Fiddler on the Roof_ , and as he shivered, a small part of him wondered what the future held for his romantic life.

He was technically still dating Susie. She started as a camper the summer after he did, and they always ended up together because they were the two biggest theater kids at camp. Susie declared them boyfriend and girlfriend about three days into junior counselor training the summer before. Ben felt nothing except slightly damp after she planted several kisses on his face while he attempted to roast a marshmallow at the second counselor campfire, but he figured he would eventually see the light and spend the rest of his life with her like he was supposed to. Sure, he never felt sparks when they touched, and he didn’t dream about their future, and he sort of hated the way she always tried to call herself the producer of the American Theater when _he_ was clearly the rightful executive producer/part-time producer/part-time costume designer. But she was his only partner in summer theater fun, so he decided he would be her boyfriend. He _did_ admire her tireless, if somewhat abrasive, enthusiasm for her craft. Plus, when they were both drunk and she wasn’t trying to French him, hanging out with Susie by the campfire was actually quite enjoyable.

After drying off and layering his two best Lacoste polos, Ben swung by the mess hall for a banana before strolling along the lake on his way to the camp theater to practice. The rising sun cast a gold glow over the fog rising off the lake, and the forest, and the docks, and the ducks as he walked by. In the distance by the cabins, Mitch, Beth, and Greg were rounding up any junior counselors they could find, presumably to instruct them not to date the campers. Not like that really did anything to stop them.

It was romantic, Ben thought, another glorious summer ahead of him and all of his friends. He whistled the chorus of “Anything Goes” and, for some reason, kept thinking about the counselor with dark hair in the red shirt and shorts - _McKinley, maybe?_ \- the one that danced for the entirety of the previous night’s campfire with a beer in his hand. He swore he knew him from somewhere, perhaps from one of the previous Camp Firewood theatrical productions.

The barn-converted theater was abandoned when Ben got there. He’d actually beaten Susie and Claude to rehearsal today, and decided to warm up by playing and singing through as much of the staff opening night musical _Electro/City_ on his keyboard as possible before they arrived. Of course he had it memorized – Lisa Schwarz told him during synagogue choir practice for Yom Kippur a few years ago that he had something called ‘perfect pitch.’ It enabled him to know exactly what key anything was in and easily memorize large swathes of music. As he played, his thoughts again strayed to the counselor in the red shorts, the way his hips moved, his smile… he wasn't sure if he was supposed to think about it, but it didn't matter. It made him feel warm in a way he hadn’t felt before, that is until Susie and Claude came bursting onto the stage.

* * *

 

11:40 AM

“Just because you’re an amateur doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

Ben was normally only taken aback in good ways, like by actors and actresses in their prime, or by the excellent service he had from a waiter once in a French restaurant in Manhattan. But here he was, completely taken aback as he sat alone at the keyboard during the _Electro/City_ rehearsal. He actually _felt_ himself move backwards slightly as Susie and Claude Dumet and presumably everybody else in the room glared at him, clearly disgusted by his ignorance. As everybody broke for the Theater Equity Rules-mandated lunch, he pretended to adjust the keyboard settings. For a moment it was just him and Susie left. She looked over at him from the other table, expressionless, before she finally got up too. He stared at his shoes for a minute, his cheeks burning.

It was rare for Ben to ever get called out for anything. He was a perfect student back at school with perfect attendance. He always got great parts in local musicals and plays, always set the example for everyone else. He knew he'd impressed everyone only hours earlier with the 'Floppy Twins' bit, and he thought putting in more work for _Electro/City_ would be exactly what Claude Dumet would want. But he didn’t know about Theater Equity Rules, or any of the other Professional Theater Regulations Claude and Susie had gone on about. His first instinct was panic - _Did I miss something big? Did they simply not include this stuff in the theater curriculum in Pennsylvania, leaving the rest of the world miles ahead of me in terms of theater know-how? Is there a place with books nearby where I can read about this stuff?_ Thoughts swirled around his head and his ears rang, until his second instinct kicked in and he decided to confront Susie. He hated how passive aggressive she could get, and he wasn’t about to let her get away with publicly embarrassing him and acting like nothing happened.

“Susie,” he called as he speed-walked outside the theater and rounded the corner. She stood at one of the picnic benches, flipping through her notes. “ _Thanks a lot_.”

“What, what did I do?” She asked innocently, finally glancing up at him.

“You totally embarrassed me back there in front of Claude Dumet and I’m like totally _dying_ inside right now!” She held up a hand and looked back down at her notebook.

“Um, methinks you’re being a _wee_ bit dramatic…”

“Oh great,” he frowned. “Just shrug it off like you always do.”

“Like I _always_ do?”

“Yeah!”

“What does _that_ mean?” Her eyebrows narrowed.

“Oh _now_ who’s being dramatic?” Ben was almost ashamed of how petty he was being, but he was so frustrated with Susie that he stopped caring.

“Ben, I don’t want to fight with you!” Susie said firmly, explaining how important their status as a couple was for Camp Firewood. “Couples don’t fight!”

“ _Yes_ , they _do_ , my parents fought _all_ the time until my father killed himself,” Ben argued. For a moment he remembered the muffled shouting coming from his parents’ bedroom when he was younger, muffled shouting that his mother later told him was, yes, Ben's fault, just as he suspected, and he remembered how he started whistling show tunes as a distraction that eventually blossomed into his passion. But then he was right back here in the shade with Susie, unsure of how he got so angry.

“What is _happening_ to us?!” Susie cried, staring at him with a horrified expression.

“I don’t know!” He shook his head, trying to calm down.

“I have an idea… let’s just have _angry sex_ right now, okay?” Susie grabbed his wrists and explained he should throw her on the table and… _something about a hussy?_ Ben wasn’t listening anymore. He just stared at her, unblinking, completely blindsided by her suggestion.

“B-but Susie,” he lowered his voice to a whisper. Sex with her was the _last_ thing on his mind, and he certainly didn't want her to continue shouting about him _dominating_ her in public, in front of campers. “We haven’t even had _actual sex_ yet.”

She huffed and asked him whether he thought she was beautiful, and Ben, as he always did when Susie asked him this question, started sweet talking her in the Southern gentleman voice he had perfected in middle school for a play he couldn’t remember the name of right then.

“I just want our first time to be perfect, that’s all,” he lied so convincingly that for a split second he believed he actually wanted it. He took her shoulders in his hands and went on and on about the moon until she softened, agreeing she wanted it too. And suddenly they were harmonizing the _Electro/City_ theme, and everything was right again, and he even successfully avoided kissing her (on the mouth, at least) by reminding her of the Theater Equity Rules.

The day was looking up.

* * *

4:01 PM

Abraham Mendel broke Danny and Becky's fall when they failed the jump for what had to have been the twentieth time, and he was reared by all as a true American hero. As soon as it was confirmed that Mendel broke one too many bones to be allowed to act per the Professional Theater Regulations, Susie pulled Ben aside and asked him to take his place in the show.

“I’m sure you’ll learn it quickly, babe, the zoot suit number is catchy and I don’t think the moves are too difficult-”

“I did choreograph them, after all,” Ben smiled at her, and for the first time since their spat that morning, he felt better about their relationship.

Susie decided to publicly can Danny and Becky for their mistake. After she made all of the announcements to the cast about finding new leads, Ben used strategically placed French words to confuse her into thinking he _might_ have thought about kissing her, like, _really_ thought hard about it, before modesty got the best of him and he ran off to fit himself for a spandex lightning outfit.

“It’s kind of our thing,” he heard her mutter.

Backstage was quiet save for the sounds of the crooning auditionees, Claude Dumet’s intermittent grumbling, and the ooh’s and aah’s of the kids at hypnotist Jackie Brazen’s show echoing from the mess hall. Nobody was around, and the temperature inside was perfect, so Ben quickly changed into nude-colored tights that breathed better than _any_ of his shorts before raiding the costume racks for Abraham Mendel’s spandex. 

Ben was sidetracked during his search by the perfectly tailored, bright turquoise zoot suit jacket hanging on a nearby wall. He took the jacket off the rack and turned it over in his hands. He wondered who had crafted the outfit, considering _he_ had forgotten to sew it altogether after he fought with Susie. When he went put it back on the wall hook, there was suddenly a lithe body wearing blue and gold spandex standing there, holding up a silver mask. Ben jumped, but quickly realized he was staring at none other than McKinley Dozen.

He immediately introduced himself as the producer (former producer) of the show, and grinned as he informed McKinley that they were now going to do the zoot suit number together. McKinley nodded and smiled, and the two of them laughed as they made small talk, and then Ben, unsure if McKinley had actually rehearsed the part yet, tried explaining it to him.

“I know, I made the costume,” McKinley revealed after letting Ben speak for a few seconds. Ben raised his eyebrows.

“ _No_ you didn’t…”

“Hand to god, I’ve been into sewing since I was eight years old,” McKinley said seriously with his hand in the air.

“Oh my god, I had no idea you were that creative,” Ben said, his eyes flicking up and down McKinley’s body.

“Really?” McKinley asked, incredulous. Ben shook his head.

“Oh… I just thought it was so _obvious_ that I’m creative,” McKinley said matter-of-factly. Ben looked him up and down again, his mouth hanging open. He hoped this wasn’t another thing from the Professional Theater Regulations about creativity that he didn’t yet understand.

“I mean, I just thought-” McKinley backtracked. “’Cause _you’re_ creative… you would know that _I’m_ creative...”

Ben couldn’t help himself. He stared at McKinley and watched his mouth move, genuinely at a loss for words because _how_ could McKinley _possibly_ know how creative he was? Ben considered the possibility of learning how a person could recognize creativity just by looking at someone, or listening to them speak for a few minutes. He clutched the zoot suit in his hands and felt himself blushing, again realizing he was completely unaware of something that probably seemed obvious to everyone else. But instead of berating him for his ignorance, McKinley just chuckled.

“I see, Ben… you don’t realize you’re creative too,” McKinley said softly. His eyes were dark and knowing and kind. “It’s all right.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Ben half-smiled at his new friend, and blushed harder when McKinley mentioned how talented he thought Ben was. Ben immediately returned the compliment.

“Obviously,” he remarked of McKinley’s talent, gesturing towards the zoot suit pants still hanging on the wall. McKinley then mentioned he had to continue working on some masks and bid Ben goodbye, started walking away-

“We gotta try this on, don’t we?” Ben heard the words coming out of his mouth and almost regretted them. Almost.

“No time like the present!” McKinley tossed the mask he was carrying out of his hand and immediately turned around. Then they were both laughing, and Ben didn't want to stop laughing because then McKinley might stop laughing, and he didn't want to stop seeing McKinley smile. When they did eventually control their giggles, McKinley began stripping unceremoniously out of his spandex into his own nude tights. Ben swallowed, watching the way his muscles moved under his bare skin, the curve of his butt...

He quickly looked away, fumbling with the buttons of the zoot suit jacket that didn't actually unbutton.

"Pants first," McKinley suggested, having already stepped into one half of the zoot bottoms, which really looked more like giant skirts than bottoms because they were each one leg. Ben looked up and nodded, handing McKinley the enormous jacket and carefully stepping into his zoot leg and pulling it up to his stomach. McKinley pulled the drawstring to tighten his once they were both standing up straight.

"Here," he said, reaching to Ben's middle and tightening his drawstring, too.

"Thanks. Now the jacket?" Ben asked eagerly as McKinley nodded. They threw the fabric over their heads and searched for their respective sleeves. In the excitement of finally putting on the suit, Ben accidentally stuck out his left arm instead of his right, nearly punching McKinley in the back, and when he missed, he lost his balance and started to topple over.

"Oh goodness," he heard McKinley say in the second before they both hit the ground. Somehow, Ben had fallen face-first  _behind_ McKinley, who landed on his side, his body flush against Ben's.

"McKinley! I'm so sorry," Ben apologized, flustered. "I... I'm sorry. Nothing I've done has gone right today."

"Oh Ben, that's not true," McKinley grinned, and Ben was suddenly acutely aware of McKinley's bare skin pressed up against him inside of the zoot jacket. He felt warm between his legs, in the place where one of McKinley's thighs was currently situated. Their noses were so close they almost touched. Ben could see each of McKinley's eyelashes.

"I guess not, I got to meet you," Ben said after what he knew might have been a little too much silence. McKinley nodded.

"Exactly! And I'm great, so I'd say you're actually doing pretty well." McKinley started laughing again.

"Is the suit okay?"

"If there _are_ any rips or tears, it's nothing I can't handle. Let's get up, shall we?"

"Oh, yeah," Ben muttered. They managed to get up off the ground and finally put their arms in the correct sleeves. McKinley placed his hand on Ben's waist inside the suit, and Ben tentatively did the same.

"We're gonna knock 'em dead," McKinley said as he inspected them.

"I think the only way we could knock 'em even more dead is if we were playing that electric chair!" Ben giggled at his joke, and McKinley was laughing again, and _maybe it's okay to step down from producer, just this once,_ Ben thought. And then he thought about how nice McKinley's body felt in his hand.

* * *

5:15 PM

After Susie and Claude Dumet finished working on the Billy/Roxie leap with Andy and Katie, Ben went to dinner and sat by himself, picking at some questionable tater tots Gary had given him with a shrug. Susie was nowhere to be found, which was odd, considering she insisted they spend every meal together whenever possible. Come to think of it, Claude Dumet was nowhere to be found either. Nor Mitch, Beth, or Greg. Ben hoped the numerous absences were due to Susie and Claude convincing the head counselors to join the chorus for the show that night.

One table over, Coop was wearing a hat that looked four times too small for his head, probably in an attempt to get Donna to stop making eyes at the new Israeli counselor, Yaron. Ben could see why Coop was having such a hard time. Yaron was good-looking, tan, and had an accent, a combination that would make any American teenager - himself possibly included - weak at the knees. Plus, he had a massive jug of wine. Ben didn’t really see why Coop was so obsessed with Donna in the first place. She had nice hair, and it was thoughtful of her to get enough shofars for an entire camp of mostly Jewish kids, but he really couldn’t understand why Coop or any other guy would like a girl _that much_.

Ben didn't think about girls sexually anyway, and had never actually kissed anybody before, not _for real_. Susie pressing her lips on his face when he couldn't duck out of the way fast enough certainly didn't count, and all those stage kisses from past theater productions didn't count either. He sometimes wondered whether he just wasn't a sexual being, not destined to do those kinds of things, but that didn't explain the one vivid wet dream he'd had about Harrison Ford when he was 15, nor the way his stomach did flip-flops only hours earlier when McKinley was pressed against him.

When he overheard Yaron start to discuss turds, Ben immediately lost what little was left of his appetite, the better part of which had disappeared moments before when Andy farted in Katie's face across the room. He took his plate over to the dish bins and started walking out of the mess hall when-

"Hey, Ben!" He turned around, and there was McKinley, standing in the doorway.

“McKinley, hey!” Ben waved and walked up to him. “We’re practicing at 5:30, right?” They had agreed, after getting themselves out of the zoot suit that afternoon, they would meet up after dinner to rehearse their number a few times.

“Right, but we finished the shofar dick sword fight tournament between my kids and JJ's bunk earlier than expected, so you wanna just go now?”

“No time like the present,” Ben said, and McKinley raised his eyebrows.

“I see, you’re just going to steal all my best lines now,” McKinley teased as they strolled over to the theater building. The afternoon sun was warm, not overwhelmingly so, and Ben finally felt like camp was in full swing. Nearby, the wedding orchestra for Gail and Jonas was warming up.

"McKinley, um, where are you from?"

"Oh, New York."

" _Really?_ " Ben nearly shouted. McKinley nodded, half-smiling. "That's amazing!"

"Yeah, my family is from Clifton, but that's down in Staten Island, kinda near the water. You ever been there?"

"No, no, we're from Lower Moreland, in Pennsylvania. I just went to Manhattan for the first time a few weeks ago with my friends to see a show on Broadway. It cost me all my savings, but it was so worth it!"

"What'd you see, _Evita_?"

"Yeah!" They made their way past the chairs and very Amish-looking wedding guests and stray campers to the back of the theater. "How did you know? Did you see it too?"

"Yep," McKinley smiled. "Thought it was fabulous. I honestly didn't stop singing _Don't Cry For Me, Argentina_ , for like a straight week afterwards." They sat down on the picnic bench, watching wedding-goers gather in the distance.

"So Pennsylvania, huh? How'd you hear about Camp Firewood?"

"Oh," Ben looked at his shoes. "Well, the spring after my father died, my mother learned about this place through another family at our synagogue, and sent me here to get away from all of the drama at home. I think sometimes she wishes that camp were year-round, because sometimes she's just _totally_ caught up in things, you know, with her boyfriends and everything." McKinley frowned, but Ben didn't see as he continued. "She wants to let me do my own thing, but she doesn't want my life to be chaos, either. I've been coming here for seven summers now," Ben explained, looking back up at McKinley.

"Wait a minute, you've been here since '75? Me too! How come we've never seen each other before?"

"I don't know! I mean, first year I didn't have a lot of friends, and after that I mostly just hung out with Jenny Freeman and the other art kids until-"

"Jenny? Didn't she get, like, kicked out of camp three years ago?"

"Yeah... actually, it turns out she had a crush on me for two summers and I didn't know, so the night after our dress rehearsal for the Firewood Mid-Summer Night's Night of Summer Shakespeare, she cornered me in my bunk to try and kiss me. When I told her I didn't like her that way, she got really mad, and, um-"

" _That's_ why she set the stage on fire during _Macbeth and Friends_?! I worked so hard on the witch costumes for that!"

Ben shrugged. "I also don't think she liked that part of the production. She couldn't stand it when Rachel Rosenbaum pronounced 'cauldron' like 'cahhldrun'..."

McKinley shook his head. "It's not Rachel's fault she's from Boston."

"I know! Now that you mention it, I think I remember you from that year... didn't you play Hamlet, King of Ham-mark?"

"Yep. That part was soooo not kosher!" McKinley giggled and Ben did too until McKinley reminded him they actually needed to begin practicing. They stood up and put their arms around each others' waists. Ben counted off and they sang and danced their number one time, then another time, then another. To Ben's initial surprise, McKinley sang perfectly in-tune, in the correct key, and had the choreography memorized better than _he_ did.

**" ♬ _Zoot suit, zoot suit, Z-O-O-T-S-U-I-T_ ♬ "**

**"Reet pleat!"**

**"Silk lapel!"**

**" ♬ Guns a'blazin' straight to hell, **

**in my mind you look so cute,**

**wrapped up with your arms around my**

**zoot suit, zoot zoot, suit! ♬ "**

Ben immediately fell into a giggle fit as they jumped forward and finished their third run-through. McKinley laughed too, and as they broke apart, Ben continued to hold McKinley's left hand in his right.

"That's good! That was really pretty good," McKinley beamed at Ben, suddenly slapping Ben's palm away.

"Thanks," Ben smiled sheepishly, running his hand through his hair as he continued to chuckle. "Wow, I... I never thought that'd be so much fun."

"It's fun," McKinley assured him. "Its fun."

Ben was ecstatic. He'd never felt so excited to perform in his life, and _that_ was saying something, considering he got to play Nathan Detroit in _Guys and Dolls_ just that past year in school. Somehow, this little part in this little camp play was everything. He cleared his throat and looked at the ground.

"What?" asked McKinley.

Ben looked up.

"What?" he asked. 

"Nothing." A breeze had picked up, blowing McKinley's hair out of his smiling face.

Something in Ben's stomach did a somersault. He was struck by how beautiful McKinley was, and for whatever reason, realized right then that McKinley was the most talented, funny, genuine, interesting person he had ever met. What was more striking was the raw desire shooting through Ben's body as, for a fraction of a second, he visualized himself leaning in and pressing his lips against his friend's lips. He wanted to say something.

McKinley turned his head to the side when Ben still hadn't said anything. "...what," he said in a low voice, his eyebrows raised.

 _Maybe now isn't the right time_ , Ben decided, and shook himself out of his trance. "What?"

Grinning, McKinley took a step back and looked Ben up and down. " _What?_ " he sassed, breaking into laughter.

"Nothing, what!?" Ben chuckled, playing along. He liked this game.

"Nothing!" McKinley shook his head. Ben looked at McKinley's shoes and then back up into his eyes with an enormous smile on his face. Finally-

"One more time?"

Ben looked down as McKinley, still laughing, poked his belly button with one finger.

"Yeah," Ben said, getting back into position with his arm securely around McKinley's waist.

"Four for nothing," announced McKinley.

"You give _me_ four for nothing," Ben suggested, turning his head.

Without missing a beat, McKinley counted off, and they were singing and dancing and zooting again.

* * *

8:03 PM

 _Electro/City_ was going off without a hitch. The dancers nailed their opening number, and Andy, though he sang a little sharp at times, was definitely the right choice for the leading man. Claude Dumet was certainly a genius when it came to casting. Susie had seemed flustered just before the curtain came up, but after Claude Dumet went into the audience to watch, she seemed to focus. The best part was Ben got to hang out with McKinley the _entire time_. He applied McKinley's makeup and vice versa, and just before the show, Ben found two enormous white feathers with little pieces of blue peacock tail glued on, which McKinley enthusiastically attached to their matching hats.

It was finally their turn, and after their short dialogue exchange that _for sure_ held together the entire plot of the story, Ben and McKinley got to shine.

**" ♬ _Zoot suit, zoot suit, Z-O-O-T-S-U-I-T_ ♬ "**

**"Reet pleat!"**

**"Silk lapel!"**

**" ♬ Guns a'blazin' straight to hell, **

**in my mind you look so cute,**

**wrapped up with your arms around my**

**zoot suit, zoot zoot, suit! ♬ "**

As they sang their last "suit," they jumped together, hands clasped tight, as the crowd went wild. Out of the corner of Ben's eye he could see Jonas - er, Gene, apparently - screaming and throwing popcorn in the air. JJ and Gary were going nuts and their cabins were too. The musty blue curtain came down but the cheers didn't die away at all, confirming exactly what Ben suspected - they were a hit!

As they had done every other time they rehearsed the zoot suit number, Ben and McKinley immediately broke into fits of laughter. But something was different. The lights were dim, and the purple backdrop of the New York City skyline glowed behind them, and now more than ever, McKinley was beautiful. Ben didn't really know what he was doing, but he suddenly found himself tilting his head to the side and leaning forward. To Ben's surprise, McKinley also seemed to be leaning, and his eyes were shut and his lips were parted, and Ben's lips were parted too, and the next thing he knew, they were kissing.

For the ensuing three seconds, everything, _everything_ for Ben was McKinley. The smell of sweaty fabric and face makeup, the faint taste of the mint candy McKinley had been sucking on about ten minutes earlier, the soft lips pressed up against his own, the sights and sounds of the entire world drowned out because McKinley was everything, _everything_. Ben reached up, thinking he might hold McKinley's cheek and even kiss him a second time, but chickened out at the last second, just before-

" _Intermission!!!_ " Susie cried from somewhere and the world came rushing back. Ben pulled back, his eyes wide.

 _I just kissed McKinley._ This thought shone in bright, twinkling lights in Ben's mind as he stared at McKinley and McKinley gazed right back at him, expressionless. A younger Ben might have been terrified and run the other direction, but the overwhelming feeling in that moment was one of joy, and also Ben couldn't run because he was wearing a two-person zoot suit. Indeed, within seconds, the two of them were laughing even harder than before because, Ben knew, what had just happened was probably inevitable, and it felt so, _so_ good. He triumphantly started walking them offstage. Thankfully, McKinley was there to remind him that the dressing room was actually in the opposite direction, and he guided them there because Ben, unable to stop grinning at his friend the entire way back, was something of a safety hazard.

"See? I knew you were creative," McKinley said as he and Ben stepped out of the zoot suit. He carefully placed it back on hangers while Ben pulled on his spandex.

"McKinley, when you say creative, do you actually mean gay?"

McKinley shrugged.

"Well... I guess you were right about that anyway," Ben said. "Hey, I'm sorry, but I gotta go find Susie."

"Why?"

"I need to tell her."

"About our kiss?"

"I... yeah."

"Okay," McKinley said, quickly pulling on his own spandex outfit.

"McKinley," Ben whispered. "That... um, you... you made me feel something I haven't felt before, just now." He took a few steps forward and took McKinley's hands in his own.

"Oh yeah? In a good way?"

" _Very_ good. I really like you, McKinley, and I know we haven't even finished our first day of camp this year yet, but I can't, I just, I like you so much, and-"

"Hey," McKinley interjected. He pulled one hand from Ben's palm and brushed a stray hair out of Ben's face. "I like you too."

Ben beamed at him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll be right back."

"I'll be here!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 coming soon!


	2. June 24, 1981 - First Day of Camp, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's nighttime on the first day of camp at Camp Firewood, summer of 1981. Love and electricity are in the air, President Reagan is on the ground, and clearly, lives are about to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McKinley-focused chapter. Longish. A bit of fluff and almost too much seriousness and a touch of schmoopiness towards the end. 
> 
> Chapter 1, part 2 soundtrack:  
> 8:04 PM: Why Can't We Be Friends by War  
> 9:30 PM: Child's Anthem by Toto  
> 9:59 PM: I'm So Into You by Peabo Bryson (1978 version)  
> 11:40 PM: Vincent by Don McLean (for reasons that will become obvi below)

8:04 PM

McKinley Dozen liked boys. He really, _really_ liked boys.

He first realized this when he was six. There was a boy that sat at his table during first grade Hebrew School, a little green-eyed kid with floppy hair named Patrick Silverman. When McKinley broke his favorite red crayon, Patrick offered him his, and his first crush was born. Unfortunately, Patrick Silverman tended to share his crayons with everyone, and when McKinley saw him sharing his red with the girls at the table next to his one morning, he was devastated.

At age ten, McKinley developed a crush on a member of his junior high track team – Fabian Alvarez – who ran almost as fast as he did and had the most _incredible_ smile. Fabian was popular, and a troublemaker, and even had a part in the school musical that year for which McKinley got to make his costume. After nearly an entire year of admiring Fabian from afar, McKinley worked up the courage to ask him to a movie. He walked into track practice that afternoon with his head held high, but was immediately crushed when he stepped onto the field. There was Fabian, kissing one of the popular, leggy high jump girls near the water jug. He was most certainly _not_ interested in seeing a movie with McKinley.

Camp Firewood was a different story than school or synagogue. McKinley had begged his parents to go when his neighbor Jake Berger came home one summer with endless stories about waterskiing and roasting marshmallows and capture the flag and how _funny_ the camp director was, and the next summer he packed his bags and went to Maine. Everyone got to know each other intimately and quickly, and as such it felt like time was compressed. McKinley felt like he was more himself at camp than he was in ‘regular’ life. See, at camp, McKinley could make dirty jokes, jokes that would typically get him thrown out of the synagogue, but instead helped him make best friends with J.J. and Gary. At camp, McKinley could run by the lake every morning instead of having to do chores for his parents. At camp, McKinley could sew as many costumes as he wanted for the numerous drama productions that the American Theater put on, because he was the best at sewing. And at camp, boys were absolutely everywhere – in his bunk, at the mess hall, _everywhere_.

His first summer, McKinley met a boy named Josh Stein that made him forget all about Fabian. He and Josh were in different bunks, but went on hikes together all the time because their respective counselors seemed to be dating. They were nearly inseparable by the second week. Then, after the talent show on the last night of camp, McKinley and Josh took a walk together and ended up having a sloppy make out session in the forest. McKinley was thrilled that he had finally had his first kiss, but the next day Josh wouldn’t even _look_ at him, despite how much he seemed to enjoy it only hours before. Josh Stein didn’t come back to Camp Firewood after that.

But that was no matter, because there were plenty of other not-so-straight boys from all over the country to go around. From that summer on, McKinley greatly increased his quota of boys he messed around with by making a rule for himself that he would only spend one romantic afternoon or night with someone before he moved on from them, permanently. That was the best way, because he could have a variety of experiences while simultaneously avoiding forming crushes or holding onto unrequited feelings that caused him so much pain in the past. Intermittent flings didn’t distract McKinley from his friendships, or being in the camp theater productions, or _crushing_ his opponents at any game that required a lot of running. Plus, all that time he spent finding gay boys made him really, _really_ good at finding gay boys.

McKinley was more excited than ever to be back to Camp Firewood for a seventh time, for the summer of ’81. He was 16 (17 come August), which meant he could _finally_ be a junior counselor with all the authority and beer he could ever want. Counselor training week had completely exceeded his expectations for excellence, since he and J.J. and Gary essentially swam all day and partied all night with Mitch and Beth and the other counselors around the campfire.

“Do _not_ think that being a counselor means that you are campers with drinking privileges,” Mitch had told him and the other junior staff that morning before listing more sex positions than he had ever heard of that were apparently off limits. But McKinley knew he wasn’t an overgrown camper with drinking privileges, he was something better – a full-fledged _counselor_ with drinking privileges and knowledge of all the best hookup spots, which was way, _way_ better.

It was a little hard to believe that just that morning, McKinley was single and ready to mess around with anyone hot enough who came his way, because he had since fallen for someone within the first 12 hours of what might be his final summer at Camp Firewood – the preppy, _gorgeous_ someone that had been watching his tipsy dance moves from behind Susie at the previous night’s campfire.

Ben Cohen was different than any of McKinley’s previous conquests. This was partly because he had no idea that he was gay, but mostly because he was absurdly friendly, laughed at any and all dumb jokes, and didn’t seem like the kind of guy McKinley only wanted to know for one night. Ben was kind of like a new puppy, too cute for it’s own good and not really sure how to function in the world, but enthusiastic about it anyway. The thing was, Ben might have literally been the most attractive human being McKinley had ever laid eyes upon, but he was _more_ than that. He was passionate, and goofy, and complimented people every chance he could, and knew exactly what he wanted to do in life. And that was why, after Ben was fired as producer for  _Electro/City_ and got stuck with him for the the zoot suit number, and after their idyllic practice in the afternoon, and after they _nailed_ their part in the show, McKinley found himself leaning in as Ben leaned in, sharing one chaste kiss behind the curtain.

McKinley knew Ben had been dating Susie since last summer. He even heard she had announced their continued relationship to the theater company that morning while he was at breakfast, but kissing Ben felt _so_ good, and Ben didn’t seem to remember his relationship with her existed either until they changed out of the zoot suit during intermission.

“I’ll be here!” McKinley called as Ben went off to tell her what they had done.

“ _Two minutes!”_ Susie called from somewhere around the corner.

“Thank you, two minutes,” McKinley called as he reapplied his blue eye shadow. Ben, in his great haste to find Susie, immediately ran into one of the enormous wooden can-can dancer cutouts around the corner from McKinley, knocking it to the floor with an enormous clatter.

“I’m okay,” Ben announced to nobody in particular as he hauled it back up against the wall.

“We need to talk…” McKinley heard Ben say. As it turned out, it seemed that just before Ben had cheated on Susie with him, _she_ had cheated on Ben with Claude Dumet, which frankly just gave McKinley the willies.

“Okay, no big deal, I hooked up with a dirty old man, you hooked up with McKinley, we all make mistakes, we can come back from thi-”

And then, in a low voice, Ben said, “I think I’m in love with him.”

With these words, McKinley’s heart rocketed into his throat and he dropped the gold eye shadow in his hand. Because McKinley _knew_ that feeling, the feeling that only really happened during camp, where after spending a single day with someone, you felt like you knew exactly how the rest of your life would play out with that person. He had that feeling his first summer with Josh, and it crushed him.

 _But I’m older now_ , McKinley thought, picking up the cracked eye shadow container from the floor. _And I think I know what I want, and maybe Ben does too_. _Maybe I could hang out with him for more than one day._

“Still friends?” he heard Ben ask Susie.

“Friends? Yes! Definitely,” Susie replied in a hollow voice. McKinley knew she wasn’t taking this as well as Ben thought she was.

And a few seconds later, Ben ran back around the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

“Hey! So it turns out Claude Dumet is not gay, and is actually a dirty old man.”

“Yeah? Who would have thought,” McKinley mused.

“Anyway, Susie said it’s okay that we kissed. I guess she cheated on me too, and I think we broke up, but she said we’re still friends, which is great! I think I always liked her better as a friend anyway.”

“Ya don’t say,” said McKinley. “Alright, stand still, lemme redo your makeup.”

Ben fluttered his eyes closed and McKinley retouched the blue and gold streaks around his right eyelid. “I really like you, McKinley,” Ben whispered, repeating his words from only minutes before. McKinley blushed, but Ben didn’t see.

“ _One minute!!!_ ” Susie screamed louder than before. Ben blinked his eyes open as several spandex-clad counselors and campers ran, frenzied, past them to get into place for the rest of the show. And as the lights came down, all McKinley could really think about was how he was going to get Ben to spend the rest of the night with him.

* * *

 

9:30 PM

Once _Electro/City_ finished and Katie and Andy took their final bows, McKinley was swarmed by all of his campers (excluding Arty Solomon – _had he even come to the show?)_ and some kids and counselors from other bunks too, asking for his autograph and telling him how amazing he and Ben were, and how snazzy the zoot suit looked, and ‘can you make us one like that, McKinley _?’_ from the Goldberg twins in bunk three. He could see Ben, still in his blue and gold spandex, getting swamped by the artsy kids, including the cast-laden Abraham Mendel.

“Alright guys, you can hang out for about fifteen minutes, but it’s bunk talk at quarter til and lights out at ten! Tonight’s topic – if your house were made of one food, what food would it be? I’ll be there soon, ya rascals,” McKinley called after his boys as they scattered out of the barn. “And I’ll see _you_ dickwads at the Round House,” he said, high-fiving Gary and J.J., the latter of whom looked like he had recently been crying tears of artistic joy.

Over the next ten minutes, McKinley took off his makeup, changed back into his clothes, and stared at himself in the mirror, rehearsing how he would ask Ben to the staff party. He hadn’t really been somebody’s date before, as up until this point he strictly avoided anything that could possibly be construed as official or ‘long term.’ He knew the Round House party that Victor Pulak had announced that morning was about to be come _the place to be_ that night, because he heard through the grapevine that the infamous DJ Ski Mask would be providing the much-needed music. At this point, dancing with Ben far outweighed his intention to stay single.

“Ben, you wanna go with _me? Ben,_ you wanna _go_ _together_? Ben, _you_ wanna go party? _With_ me? Ah, fuck it,” McKinley swore as he pulled on his windbreaker and tried to smooth his hair. “I’ll just improv.”

He pulled up his tube socks and then set to finding Ben. McKinley eventually spotted him across the stage, clad in a yellow pullover and jean shorts, standing where the zoot suit was hanging. At least, the pant legs were still hanging. Ben was busy admiring the zoot jacket in his hands, which was almost disgusting, it was so cute. Just as McKinley jogged over, Ben hung the jacket back on the wall.

“Hey!” _God, his butt looks good in jorts_ , thought McKinley.  

“Hey!” Ben looked up at him.

“Zoot suit _killed_ ,” McKinley smiled and threw his hands up with a chuckle.

“Oh! I know,” Ben returned the smile and ran a hand through his hair. _That won’t stop being adorable anytime soon_ , thought McKinley.

“Listen um…” McKinley’s voice wavered in the split second that he almost didn’t continue with his question. “D’you wanna go to the staff party together?”

“The staff party,” Ben looked confused for a moment as McKinley pressed his hands together in front of him. “Oh, I’ll already be there.”

 _Oh_ , McKinley's face fell. _Maybe he's not as into this as I thought_.

“I’m DJ-ing the staff party…” Ben turned around and grabbed something off the table behind him before McKinley could say anything. “I’m DJ ski mask!”

“ _You’re_ DJ ski mask!” McKinley repeated with a sigh, relieved. Then-

“You wanna be my date?”

And there it was – the invitation McKinley had turned down many times in the past from other boys with triumphant gusto. Tonight, though, he just smiled a little wider than he had been smiling moments before and softly said "...yeah."

“Awesome!” Ben said.

“Okay, I’ll see you there,” McKinley tried to be nonchalant, and walked off the stage.

“Okay… or I could pi-…”

“Wha?” McKinley jogged back over to Ben and put his hands on his knees.

“I could pick you up before and we could walk there!”

“Okay, yeah!” McKinley realized Ben was way, _way_ more thoughtful than he was. “I’ll be – I’ll be in my bunk,” he again stepped off the stage. 

“Okay, I’ll have the mask on,” Ben pointed to the gray ski mask in his hand. McKinley found himself quickly stepping back.

“Okay!”

“Okay,” Ben beamed at him, and McKinley ran off the stage. “Where’s your bunk?” Ben called.

Again, McKinley stopped in his tracks and jogged back. Ben was twisting the mask around in his hands, still smiling that beautiful smile like it was all he knew how to do. “Right… right behind the lakehouse. I’ll uh, see you there?”

“Okay! Okay.”

“And… and you’ll wear the mask!" _Fucking hell, McKinley, you're smitten,_ he cursed to himself.

“Yeah, right here,” Ben held up the mask again. “Okay… bye!” he called as McKinley turned and jogged back to his bunk with an enormous, stupid grin on his face.

* * *

 

9:59 PM

Miraculously, all of McKinley's campers were back in the bunk by 9:45 PM except one - Arty Solomon. He had a sneaking suspicion where he might be, but before he could go looking for him, there was a knock at his cabin door.

"OoooooOOOooooOOH!" His campers simultaneously called.

"Got a hot date, McKinley?" asked one camper.  
  
"I'm _sure_ she's hot," another decided. "Can we see her? Please?"

"Go to SLEEP, you products of satan's underbelly," McKinley snapped at them. "Or you'll feel my wrath come morning!"

His kids proceeded to giggle and holler and crawl under their sheets with their flashlights shining in the dark. McKinley exited the cabin as quickly as possible and turned around and-

"Jesus!" he cried at the masked figure standing before him.

"Oh, McKinley, sorry," Ben whispered and pulled his ski mask off. "I thought you knew I'd be wearing the mask!"

"I... I did... it's just dark," McKinley said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down at Ben's jean shorts. 

"Sorry," Ben apologized again. "I guess maybe I should save it for when I DJ."

"Maybe," shrugged McKinley. "Shall we?"

"Yeah!" Ben held out his elbow, which McKinley quickly linked to his, and they made their way over to the Round House. They walked in silence for a few seconds before Ben finally spoke again.

“You smell like vanilla.”

“Oh, thanks! It’s the vanilla,” McKinley informed him. “I took some whole vanilla pods from the mess hall when Gary, J.J. and I were getting some pudding two nights ago. I always forget to bring cologne or whatever when I come up here, so I just use those.”

“They make you smell really nice,” Ben said.

“Thanks.” McKinley smiled as they trudged arm-in-arm through the grass. They passed by the old camp radio station, where a single light was still on and a single voice emitted from one of the windows. _Damn it, Arty_ , McKinley thought. “Hey uh, I gotta make a pit stop really quick. Just one second, okay? Wait right here.”

“Okay! I’ll be right here,” Ben echoed, turning his ski-mask over in his hands and looking up at the night sky.

McKinley opened the door and sure enough, there was tubby little Arty Solomon, going on and on to his audience of zero about the staff party.

“…burning the midnight oil. Think of me as your night watchman,” Arty said thoughtfully into the dusty yellow microphone.

“Oh my god! Arty, are you still in here?” McKinley gaped at him. The boy didn’t even turn around, shoving his hand up towards McKinley’s face to shush him.

“Ten bells and all is well! Sleep tight, Camp Firewood, and sweet dreams.”

“Arty, c’mon, bed time,” McKinley pointed out the door as Arty finally turned around in his chair. “I could get in a lot of trouble… also I’m late for the party.”

“Can you give me ten more minutes?” Arty begged.

McKinley thought of Ben standing outside with his ski mask, and how he probably didn’t want to have to drag an angry camper back over behind the lake house, and how every second he spent in here with the stubborn kid meant they were later and later to the party that Ben was supposed to be DJ-ing. He knew he wouldn’t _really_ get in trouble if Arty stayed up late, considering how drunk everybody on staff would be within a matter of hours.

So McKinley sighed and left Arty to his own devices, hoping he wouldn’t have any other problems with ‘The Beekeeper.’

He walked back outside and saw Ben, still staring at the sky with his neck craned upwards.

“Sorry about that,” McKinley said. “You ready to go?”

“In a second. This is one of my favorite things about being back here,” Ben said softly. “Look.”

McKinley tilted his head up and let out a slow breath. The sky was clear and vast, untainted by any light pollution. Clusters of glittering stars were strewn across every last bit of McKinley’s view.  

“You see that? That’s Orion,” Ben pointed somewhere, and McKinley couldn’t really see what he was talking about but nodded anyway.

“And that’s the big dipper,” he pointed somewhere else. This time McKinley did see the odd spoon-shaped cluster of stars. He had read about constellations in school, but never saw the stars much since it was so bright at night where he lived.

“Wow,” he sighed. "That's beautiful."

"Yeah," said Ben. They stood there for another minute. McKinley really, _really_ wanted to kiss Ben right then and there, or just take Ben's hand in his, but he didn't want to scare Ben out of his new-found... _creativity_. _Maybe he'll make a move_ , McKinley silently hoped.

We should go,” McKinley whispered. “They’re gonna be missing their DJ.”

“You’re _so_ right," Ben exclaimed. "I can't disappoint everyone... Let’s go!”

Ben put his mask in one hand and grasped McKinley's hand with the other, pulling him forward into a jog that they maintained the entire way over to the Round House.  

* * *

11:38 PM

The ensuing hour and a half became something of a violent, musical blur. Ben certainly had an ear for picking the perfect song to dance to for the staff party, and after he shotgunned a few beers, McKinley’s dancing grew slightly more handsy than usual. Once or twice he caught Ben watching him from behind the mask, which only made him dance harder. After nearly an hour of drinking, catching up with friends, singing along to Andy's guitar-playing, and making eyes at DJ ski mask, tipsy McKinley decided enough was enough.

“Hey… why don’t you let someone else take over for you for a little while?” he said, dancing his way over to Ben’s station.

“Oh, thanks, but I couldn’t leave everyone,” Ben told him. “Without music, this just wouldn’t be a good staff party!"

McKinley cleared his throat and nodded his head towards the door, still moving to the beat.

“Why don’t you let someone else take over so you can enjoy a beer with me? And then maybe we could take a walk or something. You're my date, after all, remember?" he said in a low voice that he hoped sounded sexy.

“Oh… OH, of course!” Ben’s mouth formed a little perfect ‘o'. “Okay, yeah, I think maybe somebody else could take over for me.”

Ben pulled up his ski mask, and from there things got blurry. All of a sudden, the entirety of Camp Tiger Claw was streaming into Camp Firewood… and… McKinley _did_ remember whacking some rich kid with an oar for Andy and Katie, and Susie head-butted some chick who looked like she was eating a tube of lipstick, and he remembered playing bass with an impromptu band with the apparent pseudo-hermit/musical genius Eric while Ben played drum set, and then President Reagan and the entire United States Military was there, and he actually said the word ‘duff’ out loud, and then Mitch was a can of vegetables, and he was hugging possibly every person at camp because Lindsay the not-counselor didn’t leave, and man, truthfully, McKinley was _way_ too drunk for that entire ordeal.

By the time he got around to hugging Beth for a third time, McKinley had mostly sobered up, but Ben was nowhere to be found, so McKinley paced back and forth as everyone else went back to the Round House to celebrate not being blown up by President Reagan.

"McKinley, what are you doing?" Coop asked him on his way inside.

"I lost my date," he explained. "You seen Ben anywhere?"

"I think after Eric got shot he headed back towards the theater."

"Thanks, Coop," McKinley saluted him and darted off into the night. By now, the campers were either in their own beds or in bed with their respective crushes, so the campgrounds were completely abandoned. As he jogged, McKinley could make out a faint glow in the theater barn, and he thought he could hear music.

McKinley eventually got to the theater and slipped inside. On the stage before him was Ben without his ski mask, a single stage light illuminating him as he played a melody on his keyboard and sang a song McKinley knew well.

**" ♬ ...they did not listen, they did not know how,**

**perhaps they'll listen now**

**Starry starry night, flaming flowers that brightly blaze,**

**Swirling clouds in violet haze... **♬**  **"

Without making a sound, McKinley took a seat in the back of the theater and listened, and when Ben finished the Don McLean song, he started clapping.

"Oh! Hi McKinley," Ben said, waving from behind the keyboard. McKinley leapt up from his seat and jogged up onto the stage.

"Ben, holy _shit_ ," McKinley said. "That was gorgeous."

"Thanks," he smiled. "Sorry I left, I just don't like fighting, especially not with United States Presidents. Did everything turn out okay? Are you hurt?"

"I'm just fine, Ben. Just fine." McKinley sat down next to him on the piano bench, brushing their thighs together.

"I dunno if I could top that, but I could play you some of  _Cats_ , you know this one?" he said, tapping out the melody of 'Memory' as Ben giggled. 

"Of course... that's good, that's really good," Ben laughed as McKinley continued playing. "You're so great, McKinley."

That was the last straw. Ben could simply _not_ be allowed to sit there, so damn talented and perfect under the stage light on this fateful first night of camp, without being properly kissed. "Ben,” McKinley whispered and stopped playing. Everything about Ben was honest, and warm, and real, and this  _needed_ to happen. “Kiss me.”

Ben was silent for a second, staring down at McKinley's leg. “Okay,” he finally blurted out and looked up, but he stayed frozen where he was. McKinley glanced down at Ben's white knuckles at the edge of the piano bench, smiled, and reached up with one hand to caress Ben’s cheek.

“What is it?”

“I, um,” Ben stumbled, closing his eyes. “When we kissed before, onstage? That… you… That was my first kiss. That’s all I can do.”

“Oh, okay,” McKinley said, rubbing his thumb across Ben's skin. 

“I’m sorry McKinley, I don’t want to disappoint you, but-”

“Let me show you. Relax.”

Ben inhaled slowly, searching McKinley's gaze with his kind, bright blue eyes, before closing them again as McKinley leaned in and brushed their lips together.

“Oh,” Ben breathed out. And then McKinley fit his lips perfectly between Ben's, like their kiss on the stage. And then again. And again. McKinley dragged his fingers from Ben’s cheek to the back of his neck and then into his hair, gently tilting his head to the side so they kissed at an angle. Ben was breathing faster now, and McKinley couldn't help but kiss along Ben’s jaw, then his throat, then down at the join of his neck and his clavicle.

“M… McKinley…” Ben moaned and placed his hand on the small of McKinley's back under his windbreaker, pulling him closer. “You’re good at this.”

McKinley chuckled in response, and promptly sucked at one particular spot on Ben’s neck until he moaned again.

“What’re you-” Ben choked out.

“You’ll need to pop your collar tomorrow, sorry,” McKinley said between pecks along Ben’s neck up to the shell of his ear.

“I will? Why?”

“It’s called a hickey,” McKinley explained, running his finger over the purple splotch he left on Ben’s neck. “It’s a little bruise. Kinda like I’m marking you or something.”

“Oh,” Ben blushed. “I’ve seen those before, on Andy and Beth and some of the campers. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” McKinley murmured as he finally brought his lips back to Ben’s for a deep kiss. “Okay, now, this might feel weird at first, but just trust me and relax. Pretend like you’re like... unenthusiastically licking an ice cream cone, okay?”

“Oka-”

McKinley leaned in and kissed Ben again. And then he licked his bottom lip, and his top, and Ben open his mouth, just barely touching his tongue to McKinley’s.

“Whoa,” Ben muttered.

“Yeah.”

"Do that again. I'll get better."

For the next five minutes, they held each other close on the piano bench under the lone stage light, kissing and laughing and Frenching and exploring, until McKinley suggested they find somewhere to lie down. And after stealing some blankets from the dressing room, McKinley and Ben went to the spot Ben knew by the lake, the one that wasn't too buggy.

And as McKinley ran his hands through Ben's hair with the feeling that this summer was going to be different in a big way, midnight struck, thus concluding his first full day at Camp Firewood, summer of '81.

 


	3. Interlude I: June 26, 1975 - First Day of Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben was excited. He had been peering out the backseat window of his mother’s blue Buick Electra for the past thirty minutes, his stomach twisting in anticipatory knots. Ben had turned eleven years old just a few weeks ago, and he was on the brink of arriving at his best birthday present ever: his first summer at sleepaway camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of a series of interlude-flashbacks to past summers at Camp Firewood. Ben-focused.
> 
> Chapter 3 soundtrack:  
> You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet by Bachman Turner Overdrive

_7:35 AM_

_Ben was excited. He had been peering out the backseat window of his mother’s blue Buick Electra for the past thirty minutes, his stomach twisting in anticipatory knots. Ben had turned eleven years old just a few weeks ago, and he was on the brink of arriving at his best birthday present ever: his first summer at sleepaway camp._

_Somewhere in the back of Ben’s mind, he knew he was receiving this gift because, three months earlier, his father had died. His mother repeatedly told him it was an accident – his father had simply tripped and fallen out the eighth story window of his office building by mistake. This answer never really satisfied Ben, but he wasn’t affected very strongly by his father’s death considering the man was nearly always at the office, and when he did come home, he fought with Ben's mother almost constantly. The only real fond memories for Ben were from around the first time he ever saw a musical,_ The Sound of Music, _one night when his mother was feeling ill. He was five._

_“You’re going to think this show is swell, Benjie,” his father had said, patting Ben on the back after they took their seats in the community theater._

_After seeing that performance, Ben decided he loved acting and plays and music. He begged his father to enroll him in piano lessons, which he did the next morning. And when his parents' fighting grew more and more frequent, Ben turned to his favorite things – his show tunes, in particular the song "My Favorite Things”_ _from_ The Sound of Music _– to drown out the shouting as best he could._

_In the weeks following the funeral, Ben’s mother had started dating a spindly man with a pointy brown beard named Dr. Arthur Lowenstein that she met at their synagogue. Dr. Lowenstein smelled like cigars, and Ben didn’t like that his hands were always cold when the doctor would awkwardly pat him on the cheek. Ben, his mother, and Dr. Lowenstein had driven the nearly seven hours to Portland, Maine, where they stayed for a night before finishing the drive up to Waterville on their way to Camp Firewood. Early that morning, Ben had painstakingly spent 25 minutes combing his hair and picking out his clothes to ensure he would look his best for his first day.  
_

_The car jerked onto another path and drove over a rickety bridge. Upon the river that passed beneath them, Ben spotted a duck with six ducklings, floating along with the current._

_“Mother! Look,” he pointed, his eyes wide. His mother turned around in her seat, her six-inch-high teased hair flopping over her gigantic purple wing-tipped sunglasses as she chewed what had to be her fifth piece of gum that morning._

_“You remembered your sleeping bag, right Benjie?” She chewed and smacked her gum expectantly. Ben pursed his lips as the duck family disappeared from his view._

_“Yes, mother,” Ben answered but did not look at her as they rounded another sharp corner in the woods just past a faded wooden sign reading “This Way to Camp Firewood!” Ben had read the pamphlet for the camp over and over and over until it ripped in half the night before he left home. He was nothing short of ecstatic. Eight weeks without his mother snapping at him when he wasn’t polite enough, eight weeks without having to smell Dr. Lowenstein, eight weeks to make some friends and get involved in all of the camp theatrical productions that he could.  
_

_“Got your bathing suit, boy? Can’t forget that!”_

_“Yes, Dr. Lowenstein,” Ben answered curtly, smoothing his hands against his starchy brown pants._

_“Turn here, Art,” his mother muttered. The Buick jerked to the left and onto bumpy, gravel road. Then, slowly, the birch and pine trees around them became less dense, and suddenly they were entering a vast clearing. A few other cars were parked on the area of sprawling green grass. The red cabins surrounding them looked just like the picture on Ben’s pamphlet. In the distance he could see a lake with a dock and piles of canoes and oars and waterskis at the shoreline, and past the cabins he could just make out a big red building with a sign on top of it, but he couldn't read what it said.  
_

_“Wow,” Ben whispered. Out his window he could see two other kids with their parents, pulling bags and chatting to the smiling teenagers with clipboards who he assumed were counselors._

_“Let’s go, Benjie! I don't wanna be here all day.” His mother yanked open his door and Ben, who was still up against the window when this happened, fell forward and did something of a somersault out of the car._

_"Oy kevault," she grumbled. Ben rubbed the back of his head and got back onto his feet while his mother and Dr. Lowenstein searched for the nearest bathroom. A cool breeze swept over him and he breathed in deeply before tugging his suitcase and pillow out of the back seat._

_"Goooooood morning!" came a loud, slightly hoarse voice. A man wearing a white fishing hat, khaki shorts, and a faded yellow polo with the words "Camp Firewood" stamped in its upper left corner marched up to Ben just as he shut the car door._

_"Hi," Ben said shly, gripping his suitcase handle a little tighter as he stared up at the man in the hat. For some reason he thought he could smell canned vegetables.  
_

_“Welcome to Camp Firewood!" The man said with a smile. "I’m Mitch, and I’m the Camp Director. What’s your name, kid?”_

_“Benjamin Cohen,” said Ben. “I’m from Pennsylvania.”_

_“That’s great, kid, I’m gonna call you Ben. Is it your first year?"_

_"Yeah."  
_

_"What are you most excited for at camp?”_

_“Well, I really like musicals,” Ben said. “They have those here, right?”_

_“Musicals? Of course we do!” Mitch exclaimed, his blue eyes twinkling. “The theater geeks- er, the art kids do a lot with the theater every summer. There’s actually a staff musical that you’ll get to watch after dinner tonight."  
_

_“Really?” This was a dream come true – live theater on his first day at camp! “What musical?”_

_“It’s called_ ‘Beat Farmer,’ _and as I've been told, it's a story of a man who works farming beets but whose true aspiration is to become a disco dancer. I think you’ll love it!"_

_“Are you in it?"  
_

_"Oh god, no, I can't act. I get too nervous and then I get gassy, and it's just not a pretty picture."  
_

_Ben giggled. He liked Mitch the Camp Director._

_"Did you say goodbye to your family yet?"_

_"Not yet."_

_"Alright, they can find you in a little while. Let's go find your counselor and figure out what cabin you're in, okay?"_

_Ben nodded. He picked up his pillow and shuffled after Mitch the Camp Director, dragging his suitcase behind him. In his haste, Ben didn’t see the two kids running in his direction._

_“Look out!” One boy whizzed by him. Ben turned his head just in time to see another body speeding towards-_

_***SMACK** *_

_Ben's pillow went flying out from under his arm as the other kid collided with him and sent Ben tumbling to the ground where he landed, very un-gracefully, on his butt.  
_

_“Sorry! Lemme help you up,” the dark-haired boy in the running shorts said, extending his hand and helping Ben back onto his feet._

_"Thanks," said Ben once they were both standing again. Ben craned his neck around and frowned at the wet spot on the back of his pants, left from the dewy grass. The skinny, dark-haired boy looked him up and down once as he did this, then smiled.  
_

_“It's not so bad. I'm sure it'll dry soon. See you around! Hey Josh, wait up!” And then he was gone._

At least he was nice, _thought Ben as he scrambled to catch up with Mitch the Camp Director. They eventually reached a very tall teenager with a clipboard and a deep voice named Counselor Bobby, who showed Ben over to bunk 6 and introduced him to the other two kids who had already arrived. His mother and Dr. Lowenstein eventually found him there to say their goodbyes, and by 7:45 AM, Ben was on his own._

_"So, you ready for camp?" asked Counselor Bobby._

_"Yeah!" Ben grinned up (way up) at him. He was sure Camp Firewood was about to become his favorite place.  
_


	4. June 25, 1981 - Second Day of Camp, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camp Firewood is getting into full swing on the second day of the summer of 1981.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternates between McKinley-focused sections and Ben-focused sections. A little NSFW at the end. Part 2 coming soon. 
> 
> Songs for this chapter: coming soon, just wanted the text up here for now!

5:54 AM

McKinley woke up flat on his back with a slight headache and a crick in his neck. He had been having a nice dream about a smiling brunette with electric blue eyes watching him do the hustle, but he was awake now, probably thanks to some asshole bird chirping way louder than was acceptable for whatever hour it was. A warm _something_ lay beside him, and a warm _something else_ lay on his front. He blinked a couple of times, staring up at the sky. It was barely light out, a faint glow just entering the corner of McKinley’s vision, and he could still see some stars. The world smelled of grass.

Glancing down his front, McKinley saw an arm in a yellow sleeve resting on his chest, rising and falling with each breath he took. He turned his head and saw the rest of Ben, lying on his stomach under the blanket. His entire right side pressed against McKinley and his nose just brushed his windbreaker.

The events of the preceding day and night came rushing back – the zoot suit, Susie screaming about intermission, Arty Solomon’s hand in his face, watching Ben on the piano bench, _kissing_ Ben on the piano bench, kissing Ben beneath the blankets… it didn’t seem real. But here McKinley was, one of the realest days of his camp career behind him and the only person he didn’t ditch after one date snuggled up against him. If weren’t for the tiny detail that he had actual duties to complete as a counselor, McKinley thought, he might be content with spending his morning here by the lake, watching Ben sleep and then kissing him awake whenever he felt like it.

He reached his free arm up onto his chest, took Ben’s hand in his, and began rubbing his thumb over Ben’s knuckles. McKinley was normally not much of a morning person, though he figured maybe he could get used to _this_ kind of morning. He closed his eyes again.

About thirty seconds later, somewhere in the distance, there was strumming on an electric guitar, and a kid screamed-

“ _WAAAAAAAAAAAAKE UUUUUHHHHHPPPPPPP!”_

Ben’s eyes flew open and McKinley’s did too. The sky was a shade lighter.

“Mmph,” Ben propped himself up on his elbow, though he left his hand on McKinley’s chest. “Hi.”

“Hey,” McKinley whispered. Even tired, disheveled Ben in a pullover was a sight for sore eyes.

“We slept out here.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble?”

“I don’t think so,” McKinley shook his head. “Even if my kids did sneak out, they had to fall asleep somewhere, or maybe they’re sprinting back to the cabin now. I’m sure they’re fine. You don't even have campers this year, do you?"

"No, no, I just stay with some of the other arts counselors over in the bunk near the showers. Gail and Susie have their own bunk beds."

"Must be nice."

"Kind of, though to be honest some days I'd rather have my own cabin again. At least I wouldn't have to wake up to Susie singing that Judy Garland 'Good Morning' song every _single_ day..." 

McKinley let out a loud laugh and Ben did too, and as the sunrise peeked over the treetops at the other side of the lake, Ben’s skin was golden brown, and his hair was blowing in the breeze, and it just was _not_ fair for one person to be that attractive.

“You know, Ben, you’re like, the most gorgeous person I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?”

“Of _course_ I do,” McKinley scoffed. “I mean, _look_ at you. And I just… ugh. I just want to stay here with you instead of going to see if my campers did anything illegal last night.”

“You think they did something illegal?”

“It’s always a possibility.”

“I think you’re gorgeous too, McKinley.” Smiling, Ben unfolded his hand and let McKinley snake his fingers between his own.

“Thanks,” McKinley whispered.

“And I really want to stay here with you, too,” Ben smiled. “But I have to figure out the drama class schedule with Susie, do some inventory in the theater, and start casting the Week Two Revue all before snack break.”

“Alright,” sighed McKinley. “I suppose I have some stuff to do too. Wanna meet up this afternoon?”

“Sure, I have a break around 2, I think. Is that alright?”

“That’s perfect. I just have softball practice at 3. Let’s meet in the toolshed on the far side of the cabins, the one across the field?”

“Yeah… but there? Really?” Ben knit his eyebrows together.

“I know it seems like a weird spot, but trust me, we’ll get some alone time there.”

“If you say so.” Under the blanket, McKinley turned his body and pulled Ben close. He then proceeded to give him the dirtiest, tongue-heavy, moan-inducing kisses he could muster, dragging his hands across Ben's chest and along his neck, and when Ben started whimpering, McKinley pulled away. 

“Let’s go,” he said with a smirk. Ben, breathing a little faster than usual and lying somewhat frozen on his side on the blanket, took a second to shake himself out of his trance. He stood up as McKinley stretched his arms.

“That… was…” Ben tried to say, but just shook his head as McKinley folded up the blankets.

“You wanna take these back to the theater?”

“Sure,” Ben tucked the blankets under his arm, running his free hand through his hair with a sigh and a smile. McKinley knew he needed to leave now or he’d just end up dry-humping Ben against a tree for the rest of the day, which, while it seemed like a great idea in his head, would inevitably inhibit him from the actual responsibilities he needed to attend to.

“The toolshed. 2 PM. See you then,” he said with a wink, and started jogging back to his cabin.

_Smooth, McKinley. Real smooth._

* * *

7:25 AM

Hash browns, scrambled eggs, pancake-wrapped sausage bites.

Ben shrunk away from most of the rubbery, grayish hot breakfast offerings, as he often did. He was seasoned enough to know that most of Jonas-no, _Gene_ , now- most of _Gene's_ canteen food would earn anybody a one-way ticket to the commode. He took the two least-bruised bananas he could find and one of the four containers of vanilla yogurt remaining in the ice bucket before finding a seat near a window at an empty table. Sleepy campers and counselors were just filing into line for food, one jumping at the sound of "-VIETNAAAAM, GARY" and the familiar sound of shattering pottery that came booming from the serving window. 

Most mornings of camp, Ben's head swarmed with staging ideas, or costume designs, or possible productions. Unlike most of his friends, Ben loved being up early. The day felt fresh and clear, untainted by distractions or too much action at any given time. It was also helpful that most _other_ people were still waking up, so Ben got some time alone with his thoughts.

Except for _this_ morning. _This_ morning, Ben was hoping that McKinley's campers had fared decently through the night, as McKinley hadn't shown up for breakfast yet. And he kept thinking about how nice it felt to wake up to someone who wanted to kiss him. He dunked one of the Earl Grey teabags he brought from home into a steaming mug of hot water and watched it steep.

"♫ Goooood morning, good morning!♫" came a jarring, singsong voice.

Ben glanced up to see Susie in a bright pink pullover, standing at the corner of the table. She put down her bowl of cereal and seated herself across from him.

"Hi, Susie," said Ben after swallowing some yogurt. "How are you?"

"Oh, just great," she said, staring at her spoon for a second. "You have a good night after all the action?"

"Yeah, yeah I did." A smile crept across Ben's face. "I hung out with McKinley."

"Wow! Wow. That is just _sooooo_ , so grood- _great_. So good. So great." Susie blinked a lot as she said this.

"Do you have something in your eye?"

"Nope," she said, shoving a spoonful of Cheerios into her mouth and chewing loudly.

"You wanna map out the drama schedule now? I was also thinking we could start figuring out the acts for the Week Two Revue. I've had some ideas-"

Before Ben could finish his sentence, Susie pulled her binder from out of nowhere and drop it in the middle of the table. She flipped past the first few pages and then pointed at a page covered in scribbled, purple pen.

"Already done," she said with a smug grin. "For the first two weeks, you'll be teaching acting for the Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday kids at 9 AM, I'll take the Monday-Wednesday-Friday group. Your costume design class will also be Tuesday-Thursday-Saturday at 10:45 AM for this session, and my drama _slash_ directing class will be Monday-Wednesday-Friday. Then on alternate days when we're not teaching, we can work on the set and blocking and stuff. Obviously we'll both lead all the rehearsals Monday through Friday for the productions. And then you're teaching... some... some other thing? Right?"

"Kayaking," Ben muttered, stirring his tea. "Monday-Wednesday-Friday, in the late afternoon."

"Right, right, okay." Susie took another large bite of her cereal. "Okay," she chewed. "So, so then for the Revue, I'm thinking we pull from all the best comedies we've got and make em' laugh - a little from _Anything Goes_ , a little from _The Music Man_ -"

"Susie!"

"What?" She looked up from her notes.

"Look, I appreciate that you made our schedules. That's very nice of you to do for us."

" _Doy,_ I'm very nice," she rolled her eyes. 

"But you can't just take over _every_ production, okay? I've got some ideas, too."

Susie scoffed, dropping her spoon onto the table and folding her arms.

"Alright Cohen, impress me."

"Okay," Ben said. He took a sip of his tea and looked at her. "I like the comedy idea, and I was thinking we do _Pirates of Penzance-_ "

" _Pirates of Penzance?_ Are you kidding me?" Susie laughed. "Ben, that production would take _months_ to get to a mediocre level, let alone _two weeks_."

"Not the entire thing. I was thinking we could make the revue like, I dunno, pirate, or ocean themed or something. We could use a few of the best songs from _Pirates of Penzance_ , and maybe a narrator, to structure everything. Then in between the _Penzance_ stuff, we do other things. Like, the dance class could do something with mermaids, and we could find other things to do in between." 

Susie raised an eyebrow.

"It could totally work, Suze," Ben continued. "Pirates, all that stuff, the kids would love it! The costumes would be easy to put together, and the kids in my class could help make them. And I'm sure we could find someone to do the Modern Major General part... up to your standards, of course," Ben bowed his head a little in the hope that Susie would still think she was completely in charge.

"Aaaaaaalright, as long as I can do the casting," she finally said with a small smile. Ben grinned.

"Awesome." _I can't wait to tell McKinley_ , Ben thought, and he smiled wider, not noticing Susie slowly inching towards him from her seat. A few campers took seats beside him and Susie, and the smell of the oddly square bits of camp scrambled eggs wafted under Ben's nose. "Um... I'll go... I'll go work on it okay?" He shot up from his chair with his mug in his hand. Susie, who had leaned halfway across the table with her lips parted, looked up at him and suddenly turned very red.

"Oh...kay," Susie said.

As Ben walked out of the canteen, Susie came running up beside him with her notebook tucked under her arm.

"Waitwaitwait, _Ben_ ," she said, stopping him at the doorway.

"Susie, what is it?"

"Last night, um, when we talked, you said something about McKinley," she started.

 _McKinley_ , Ben thought, and he automatically grinned. "Yeah, that I kissed him, and that I think I'm in love with him." 

"Okay, so, so did-"

"I have to tell you Susie," Ben lowered his voice. He took a deep breath and then whispered, "We kissed more, after all the stuff with Camp Tigerclaw and Eric and the military. He's just... I haven't met someone like him before. I'm thinking I might have Gail refresh me on making friendship bracelets, because I gotta make him one. Oh, and look-" he pulled his blue polo collar down a little bit to show her his fresh hickey. 

Susie blinked once at the bruise and pursed her lips. "McKinley. Right." She then turned on her heel and tromped back into the canteen without another word.

"See you in a little while!" Ben called after her as he resumed walking towards the theater to take post- _El_ _ectro/City_   inventory. Showing Susie his hickey just made Ben think about McKinley kissing his neck, and the way McKinley's kissing was so  _good_ , like, make-you-forget-you-have-morning-breath good, which in turn made Ben's stomach feel lighter than normal, which in turn made him smile past the point where his cheeks hurt.

* * *

8:22 AM

The Camp Firewood Running Club, established in 1971, varied every year in size and constitution. This was mostly because of the weather. Hot days meant less members, cloudy days meant more, and rainy days meant at least one person would trip and fall on their face in the mud. It always met at 8 AM sharp, well before the first morning activities.

McKinley had been the Camp Firewood Running Club captain for the past two years, going on his third. As a camper, the counselors realized he was so enthusiastic about running that it would be easier for them to let him take over than try to force an unwilling staff member to show up to lead the group every day. The one time they let Gene do it, it turned into skipping club, which simply would not do.

Today, he was accompanied by six other sweaty individuals: the Goldberg twins from bunk 3, Andrew Finklestein from bunk 7, Dana Baron from bunk 2, Coop, and Victor Pulak. Coop and Victor had mentioned something about wanting to get in shape when they showed up after breakfast, which McKinley was sure was "for the ladies." The bright blue sky was speckled with clouds, and the 3 mile forest path was cooler than McKinley anticipated. He took them along at an easy pace as they maneuvered hills, fallen trees, and the occasional squirrel. He led them on his own initially, but some time after the first mile Coop picked up his pace to join him, jogging several feet in front of everyone else.

"McKinley, I meant to tell you - amazing job last night," puffed Coop.

“Oh,” McKinley said. "Thanks! I saw you in the front row. Your shirt was really... really red."

"Yeah," Coop agreed. "You know, you and Ben were so great in the zoot suit. Ben told me you made the whole costume yourself.”

“Sewing enormous formalwear is one of my many, many talents,” McKinley shrugged.

“You guys looked good together, you know?”

“Yeah, we know,” McKinley chuckled. “Me more than him, obviously.”

They jogged a little faster, ahead of the rest of the group.

“You know what I mean though, right _?_ I saw the way you were dancing next to him last night, McKinley,” Coop said in a low voice as they hopped over a log. “Are you into him?”

Guys were generally untrustworthy and, at times, judgmental when it came to things like McKinley's sexual orientation and crushes, but he and Coop had been friends for a few summers, and Coop was different. He was a total dweeb, a dweeb that had absolutely no idea how to interact with girls, but a _good_ dweeb nonetheless. He was one of the few people that knew McKinley was gay, and absolutely did not give a shit. 

“Would you even believe me if I said no?”

“I knew it,” Coop grinned. They rounded a corner and narrowly missed a muddy patch. 

"Hey watch out for the mud!" McKinley called behind them.

“Oy! Fuckin' squirrels making me slip!” shouted Victor Pulak about 10 seconds later as the kids giggled, and McKinley shook his head. 

"Stop bothering the wildlife, Victor," Coop shouted, shaking his head. "Seriously, he's so rude to nature. So anyway, are you gonna like, keep dating him?"

"Victor? What?"

"No, _Ben_!"

"We're not _dating_ , Coop. Just because you kiss someone doesn't automatically mean you're dating."

"You... are... _hilarious_ , McKinley," Coop chuckled, shaking his head. McKinley rolled his eyes. They ran in silence for a few minutes, heading down the hill that led them past the stream just next to camp. Behind them came the groans and puffing of the rest of the running club as they hit mile two.

"Not like you date anybody anyway," Coop eventually continued after he caught his breath. "Right?"

"I... yeah," McKinley shrugged and wiped sweat out of his eyes. "I dunno."

"McKinley," Coop raised his eyebrows and smacked his back. "You _liiiiiiike_ him."

"Shut up, Cooperberg. And what about you and Donna, huh? She have any more shirts for you?"

"Oh, uh, yeah she and Yaron kind of left this morning. I think they're gonna go have sex in Israel. I dunno who is gonna teach soccer now, though."

"Good question."

"Yeah, I mean, I guess she wasn't really that great of a girlfriend. But there are plenty of other fish in the bug juice, you know?"

"Sure, Coop... sure."

“SHITSHITSHITSHHHHIIIIIIIT!” McKinley and Coop abruptly stopped jogging and glanced behind them just in time to see a screaming Victor Pulak sprint past them, his arms and curls bouncing with each of his tiny, strangely effective steps. The rest of the kids came running around the corner, also screaming, and nearly plowed them into the ground.

“What the fuck did he do?” McKinley asked. As he said this, he could see about thirty squirrels bounding across the trail and off the trees and jumping down from branches and coming  _right at them_ , their little faces about as rabid as rabid could be. McKinley swore their eyes were glowing green, and he briefly wondered if they had gotten to the toxic sludge that had been dumped outside of camp before the government finished cleaning it up. 

Simultaneously muttering the word "fuck," Coop and McKinley took off at a sprint, the sounds of the squeaking squirrels dangerously close behind them. The adrenaline somehow made the climb up the final hill on the trail not seem so terrible, and they ended up in a clearing near the lakehouse. McKinley and Coop ran onto the porch of Mckinley's bunk, where the Goldberg twins from bunk 3 were shaking and hugging Dana Baron and Andrew Finklestein, clearly scarred. The squirrels shot past them towards Victor Pulak, who was still running and screaming obscenities. They watched as he eventually ran back into the woods with the squirrel army on his tail.

"Well, that was different," Coop puffed, his hands on his knees as he continued to catch his breath.

"Y-yeah," McKinley ran his hand through his sweaty hair. "Alright guys, club is out of session now. See you tomorrow morning for the run around the lake if you're up for it." The kids walked off, arm in arm, probably bonded forever by this most harrowing experience.

"So you and Ben are dating."

McKinley sighed. As much as he didn't _want_ to want what Coop was repeatedly suggesting - to be  _dating_ someone - the thought of being with Ben, like _with_ him with him, over time, was delicious and light and perfect and covered in Lacoste polos. It was, in fact, what he wanted. 

"Not... yet."

* * *

1:59 PM

To Ben's delight, the pool of talent at Camp Firewood that year was wider and, well, more talented than usual. His performance in  _Electro/City_ attracted large numbers to his acting and costume design classes that morning. They went over the basics, then Ben had them discuss what they thought acting meant and took them through some icebreakers. Aside from that redheaded kid who answered almost every question with some variation on the word 'fart,' the campers were actually taking him seriously! It was a welcome change from Susie's condescension, which came into full swing during the auditions for the Week Two Revue an hour earlier when she told a kid "the amount of dick you suck cannot be measured by the human mind."

Still, they found their Major General for the _Penzance_  bits - it turned out that Logan St. Bogan's father had been an auctioneer, and masterfully executed all of the tongue twisters they threw at him. Katie, Andy, Becky, Danny, Neil, the surprisingly mature-looking Abby Bernstein, and a host of others showed up to audition for the parts of Mabel and Frederic, and even Abraham Mendel made his way onstage (he was immediately cast as a peg-leg pirate, due mostly to his continued use of crutches). The audition callbacks would take place after dinner. 

Following the last auditionee for the part of Frederic (Andy, who kept laughing at the word 'duty' because it sounded like 'doody'), Ben made his way over to the toolshed. As he walked, he wondered how it was that he could easily keep his cool in the midst of fifteen campers simultaneously handling fifteen pairs of scissors in his costuming class, or maintain his composure around Susie's barking orders, but at this very moment his stomach was tangling and twisting at the thought of seeing someone he only knew for like, a day?

He played with the hem of his polo as he pondered this.

As McKinley had predicted that morning, there weren't a lot of people around. Ben knew it was just about snack time, anyway, so most of the camp would probably be heading to the canteen for bug juice and popcorn and whatever else Gary and Gene had managed to concoct. 

Ben opened the creaking door and walked inside, and was overwhelmed with the musty smell of spare life jackets and broken oars strewn across the wood floor. He picked up as much as he could without getting dust on his khaki shorts, and set to organizing the space. There was a knock at the door about a minute later. 

"Hello?" Ben called, dusting off his hands after hanging up the last life jacket. The door swung open, and there was McKinley, dressed in his red running shorts and a faded track t-shirt, his tube socks pulled right up to his ankles. In one hand he held a plastic bag filled with rags and cleaning supplies. 

"Hey," he said, shutting the door behind him and looking around. "Looks like a bomb went off in here or something." 

"Smells like it too," Ben chuckled. "Some spot you've picked out." 

"Hey now, I told you this would be a good place and I will make good on that guarantee. We just need to clean it up a bit."  McKinley handed Ben a rag and a spray bottle filled with blue liquid. 

It took them about twenty minutes to thoroughly vet the shed of all the spiderwebs, sand, and moldy waterfront equipment. By the time they finished, Ben was sweating. 

"Warm in here," he muttered as he placed an old soccer ball on a shelf. 

"Yeah, I didn't think it was gonna be that hot today," McKinley told him and offered him some hand wipes. He accepted them gratefully, scrubbing them along his fingers and forearms. "D'you mind if I..." 

McKinley turned around, slowly lifting his track shirt over his head, and once again, Ben was unable to avert his eyes from the slight, sinewy body. The light filtering in from the cracks in the toolshed ceiling cast shadows along his back muscles, and with a light sheen of sweat over his body and his black hair sort of disheveled, McKinley embodied a word that Ben had often heard but never used to describe anyone before -  _sexy_. 

"Like what you see?" asked McKinley. Ben swallowed, dropping his hand wipes into one of the trash bags McKinley brought.

"I... W-what?" Ben stammered. 

"Nothing, what?" McKinley sassed, raising an eyebrow as he took slow steps towards him. 

"Nothing," said Ben. He felt himself backing up as McKinley came closer, until he was up against the toolshed wall.

"Ben, are you feeling warm too?" McKinley looked him straight in the eye. His pupils were enormous.

"Yes..." And as Ben answered, McKinley pulled up his polo and helped him take it off. For a second, the knots in Ben's stomach seemed to unwind, just as McKinley placed his hands on his hips.

"McKinley," Ben whispered, then breathed in as McKinley leaned in to kiss his temple, then his shoulder, and it was then that Ben remembered he had hands, hands that he could put on McKinley's shoulders to pull him closer, hands that he could use to touch McKinley's chest and his stomach and his neck. So he did, the heat and the sweat on McKinley's body felt so  _good,_ and McKinley's breath hitched when Ben brushed his fingers over his nipple, and Ben closed his eyes. He needed to _feel more._

Then McKinley's lips were on his lips, a little wet and warm just like the rest of him. Ben relaxed his mouth like he did night before so that their tongues could touch here and there, and he was so nervous that his hands were shaking on McKinley's shoulders, but it was okay because they were _McKinley's_ shoulders, and McKinley's arm was around him and his hand was in his hair and-

" _McKinley_ ," Ben groaned, leaning his head back against the wall. He made another, louder sound when McKinley licked a long, wet stripe up his neck.

"What?" McKinley hissed before lightly running his teeth along Ben's throat.

"I didn't know I could feel this good. Is this-" Ben moaned as McKinley started to leave him another hickey. "-is this good for you, too?"

McKinley immediately pulled his head up and looked Ben up and down.

"Absolutely." They started kissing again. Ben didn't know how much time was passing, really, but he didn't care. Music played in his head. Heat had been steadily building between his legs, compounding every time McKinley's nose brushed his and for every second longer that McKinley held him.

McKinley eventually leaned his forehead against Ben's when they took a break for air, but he didn't stop moving. Ben stared down at his feet and watched McKinley bring his hips closer and closer until red shorts mashed into khakis, and Ben's mouth dropped open because McKinley was moving against him and _damn_ , _this couldn't possibly feel any better_.

"If you keep-" Ben tried to say, but he knew he couldn't stop what was happening.

He was _hard_.

McKinley was too, he could feel it.

Half of Ben wanted to shove down his shorts right then and there and let whatever was supposed to happen next simply happen, and it would probably be perfect because McKinley seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

And the other half of Ben was terrified. He had no idea what came next. He wanted to run, so that maybe McKinley wouldn't find out he was the least sexually experienced teenager on the planet, at least not today.

"McKinley, wait," said Ben as McKinley trailed his hand down to his waistband.

"What is it?"

"This is amazing, incredible. _You_ are incredible. I mean, I can honestly say I have _never_ felt like this before. But um.. I'm kind of..." Ben could hear his voice shaking. "...this is happening really fast."

"It's okay," whispered McKinley, taking his hand away from Ben's shorts and instead resting it on his cheek. "We don't have to do anything else. We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Ben nodded furiously and continued staring intently at McKinley's belly button. His face flushed what he could only imagine was an embarassingly deep shade of pink.

"Hey," McKinley gently tilted his chin up, and finally Ben looked into his eyes. "You know, once I didn't know what I was doing, either. It's okay. It has to get worse before it gets better. And then one day, when you feel like it, you go a little further when it feels right."

Ben nodded again and smiled, and then he and McKinley stood there in silence for a little while, just breathing, watching each other.

"You okay?" McKinley finally asked.

"Yes," said Ben. "More than okay. I really like you, McKinley," Ben whispered. It was becoming his mantra.

"I know," McKinley chuckled, squeezing Ben's hand. "I really like you too, Ben." Then McKinley kissed his nose, then the corner of his mouth, and then stepped away to find their shirts. Just as Ben tugged his polo over his head, the toolshed door came flying open.

"Whoa! Hey guys," Beth greeted them with a wave. "Have you... what have you been doing in here?"

"Cleaning," Ben and McKinley said in unison. McKinley hadn't even put his shirt back on yet. They glanced at each other and then back at Beth, who eyed their sweaty faces suspiciously, then looked around the shed.

"Man, it's warm in here, you've got the right idea there, McKinley. But it looks great! Thanks for doing this, guys, that's really above and beyond."

"Thank you, Beth," said McKinley, throwing his shirt over his head and quickly pulling it on. "We were just leaving for softball."

"Oh yeah? That's great. Gotta say, I really don't know how we're gonna do in the inter-camp softball league this time around, but I'm sure you'll have fun no matter what." Then Ben and McKinley said their goodbyes and walked outside, leaving Beth behind to take inventory.

"Wow, talk about good timing," Ben laughed once they were far enough away from the toolshed. McKinley laughed too, shaking his head.

"So it wasn't so bad, huh?"

"Yeah! You were right."

"I'm nearly always right," McKinley winked at him. "Now I've gotta get to softball practice. You gonna go to the theater?"

"Yeah, for a while."

"Then I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Yes," Ben smiled. "And...I'm sorry again, about back there-"

"No more apologies," McKinley declared, stopping them both in their tracks and taking Ben's hand in his. "I like you too much to let you be sorry for the hottest makeout session I've had in years, maybe ever."

"Alright, no more apologies," Ben agreed, blushing. "I'll see you at dinner, McKinley."

"Can't wait." McKinley squeezed his hand then jogged away, like always.

 

 

 


	5. June 25, 1981 - Second Day of Camp, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sun sets on the second day of Camp Firewood. Emotions are running high, Victor Pulak is still running, etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternating McKinley and Ben-focused sections. Not as hot 'n' heavy but hopefully a little bit funny maybe.
> 
> Soundtrack coming soon, I'm super lazy and just wanted to get the writing up first!

3:02 PM

As he watched Ben get further away from him on the main camp field, McKinley sighed and picked at the white bracelet on his wrist, the one that that all of the other counselors had from training week. Luckily, his boner had calmed itself down the second Beth opened the shed door, though the residual all-over warmth of being that close to Ben still hadn't dissipated completely. _Stop taking things so fast, idiot_ , he thought to himself as he headed towards the group of campers and counselors gathered for the first softball practice of the summer. He trudged over to Gary and J.J, the latter of whom was wrapped in a rainbow-striped cape and fanning himself with a yellow baseball cap.

"I wonder how many jelly beans would fit in a boob?"

"What a dumb question, Gary, that _obviously_ depends on the size of the boob in question," J.J. replied, rolling onto his stomach and picking at a patch of clover. 

"Guess the size of the jelly bean matters, too," Gary muttered.

"Hey guys," said McKinley, stepping around clusters of campers to reach his friends. The rest of the softball team sat scattered elsewhere on the main activity field. Gary, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, tilted his chin to look at him before looking back at the sky. A kid sitting just behind J.J. was picking her nose, like, really _going for it_. Like so many other things at camp, it was both impressive and disgusting.

"Whassup, McKin-dick?" laughed J.J.

"Horrible, it's like you didn't even try to insult me."

"Not my best," J.J. sighed.

McKinley took a seat on the grass next to Gary and watched, mesmerized, as the girl behind J.J. proceeded to eat her boogers with reckless abandon.

"McKinley," Gary poked his shoe. "How many jelly beans do _you_ think would fit in a boob?"

"46." The booger girl was _still_ digging in her nose for more. Amazing.

"Hey, you guys," J.J. said in a low voice. "You know what we should do?"

"What?" Gary asked.

"Huh?" McKinley finally tore his eyes away from the glorious nose-picking display.

"We... should come up with the best prank _ever_ this year. I mean, just like, completely blow every other year's counselor prank outta the water."

"Yes!" Gary flipped himself over. "Any ideas?"

"I have a few," J.J. smirked.

"Are these ideas as good as McKin-dick, or...?"

"Shut up, Tit-Kinley."

"Better," McKinley shrugged.

"More like _Dick-_ kinley," Gary suggested as J.J. grinned.

"Nice!"

"You GUYS!" came a yell from somewhere. The three of them looked up with the rest of the campers and counselors to see Coop standing in the middle of the field with his hands cupped around his mouth and a white baseball cap on his head.

"Oh... so wait I thought-"

"Greg _died_ , Gary," McKinley reminded him. "Remember? A falcon shot him in the face or something. At least that's what Beth told me last night, unless I dreamed that? I was pretty drunk."

"No, no, McKinley's right," J.J. said, holding his hand up. "Coop is taking over as softball coach for Greg. And McKinley you _were_ really drunk. You kept feeling yourself up in front of DJ ski mask."

 _Poker face,_ McKinley reminded himself. He had not told Gary nor J.J. that he was into dudes, and he didn't plan on it, at least not until they were older. So he shrugged. "I do that when I'm wasted." Gary and J.J. nodded, agreeing.  

"Gather round everybody!" Coop shouted. Nobody moved. "Today starts the first of our many softball practices for the Inter-Camp Softball League. I will be your humble coach in the stead of our very dearly departed Greg," he took a bow. "So let's get going! This half of the field will be up to bat first," he gestured to McKinley, J.J., and Gary's side of the grass. "Also, has anybody seen Victor Pulak? He's supposed to be our umpire."

From there, everything went downhill. Fast. 

For one thing, the team was horrible. Half the nerdy kids from bunk 3 had shown up, likely assuming they would be able to just keep score, but they were forced into the outfield where their pale skin began to burn in the afternoon sun. Some of the kids didn't know how to hold the bat, some kids were too weak to even _lift_ the bat, and one kid whacked himself in the balls by inadvertently stepping on a spare baseball bat. Plus, the bases were made out of old gym shorts that one could smell from ten feet away. Coop eventually had to force everyone to switch from infield to outfield after a 0-0 score with no outs and nobody on base for nearly 40 minutes.

To make matters worse, Susie, who did have a small amount of experience with softball, seemed to only hit the ball in McKinley’s direction, or throw her bat at him when he was waiting to come to the plate.

“FOCUS UP!” she screamed after hitting a fly ball that smacked McKinley's chest so hard that it knocked the wind out of him.

“Aaaaalright let’s take a break to hydrate,” Coop called as McKinley bent over, thinking he might throw up right then and there. The rest of the team eagerly made their way to the coolers brimming with bug juice and water.

“Susie, what’s your damage?” McKinley snapped her as they approached each other on the field.

“ _My_ damage? Um, I dunno, McKinley, maybe that you _stole my boyfriend!_ ” she hissed at him.

“Look, Susie-”

“I don’t wanna hear it, Dozen," she said through gritted teeth. "Ben is obviously very beautiful and talented but he’s not the sharpest, alright? He gets…well, confused… you’re just trying to take advantage of him, you _slut_.”

“Are you calling him stupid? Are you kidding me? That’s not-”

“He _loves_ me, okay? And he, he wants to bang _me_ ," she spat.

“Susie-”

“In fact, he said just yesterday he wanted to do me under the harvest moon!” Susie slowly approached McKinley, the baseball bat still in her hand and a maniacal glint in her eyes.

“Don’t do it-”

“So BACK OFF, Dozen. Back the HELL. OFF.” She reared back and McKinley jumped away just in time as she took a swing.

“Oh, _my_ god,” McKinley threw his hands up.

“Hey! Be careful, those bats are expensive,” Coop called to them from the coolers. A few campers looked over at them. Susie gripped the bat with both hands but didn’t swing again.

“Susie, look, I frankly don’t have the energy or time to deal with _this_ ” -he motioned a giant circle around her- “right now. I do want to talk to you, but calm down first, okay?”

"Let's get back on that field guys! Just another 20 minutes," said Coop before running after an angry-looking camper who had decided he'd had enough of softball for that day and had tried to steal one of the bug juice coolers. Susie glared at McKinley, then turned on her heel and stomped over to home plate as McKinley jogged back to the outfield.

“THIS ISN’T OVER!” Susie hollered over her shoulder as the rest of the team begrudgingly made their way back to their spots.

McKinley sighed. If Susie kept this up, it was going to be a long summer.

* * *

5:40 PM

At dinner, Ben sat with McKinley and his campers at their table, which was lovely up until McKinley relayed the hellish softball practice he had to suffer through while Ben was busy making pirate costumes. It wasn't out of character for Susie to get jealous - she'd done it before, and had successfully scared off every other girl at camp that had made eyes at Ben the previous year. But the thought of her being angry with McKinley, for suggesting that McKinley would ever take advantage of him, it just made Ben angry with her.

"And she called me a slut," McKinley scoffed. "Who does she think she is? What a nerf-herder." 

Ben didn't say anything after McKinley said this, because he knew what 'slut' meant but he wasn't sure how literally Susie meant it, and no matter iwhat it meant, he was certainly not looking forward to sitting with her through the audition callbacks. After squeezing McKinley's hand under the canteen table, he headed to the theater barn a little early so he could get some alone time before Susie showed up. He walked through the side door and heard enthusiastic singing coming from the stage.

"♫ _I am the very model of a modern Major-General,_

_I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral,_

_I know the kings of England and I quote the fights historical_

_From Marathon to Waterloo in order catatorical_ \- damn it!"

"Close, Logan, it's actually cate _gor_ ical," Ben gently reminded the cursing Logan St. Bogan, who was clad in a dark green uniform and a large military-style hat with a fluffy yellow feather. 

"Right," Logan huffed, pacing.

"Hey, uh, Logan," Ben looked around at the otherwise empty barn and motioned to Logan with his finger. "C'mere."

Logan grinned, looking him up and down for a moment before crouching down at the edge of the stage. "What's up?"

"Um," Ben lowered his voice. "Are you... _creative_?"

Logan St. Bogan blinked and squinted at him.

"Like... in... my life?"

"I mean are you like, you know... _gay_? Or if not, do you know anybody who is?"

"Homosexual? My goodness, _yes_ ," Logan sighed. "I got so _confused,_ like, I'm so very _obviously_ creative. Why, you wanna taste?" He winked and smirked.

"Um, no thank you," Ben shuffled nervously. "No I just thought if you _were_ gay then maybe you could answer a question for me."

"Shoot."

"Okay I um," Ben cleared his throat. "So, so I think, well, it turns out I'm gay too. And today I kind of got to _hang out_ with a guy, and I can't stop thinking about him, but-"

"Do tell!" Logan exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "Who? Who is it? Tell meeeeee! Who who who who who who-"

"I shouldn't-"

"-who who who who whowhowhowhowhowhowhowho-"

"-can you keep your voice down?"

Logan immediately started whispering "-whowhowhowhowho-"

"Okay fine," Ben sighed. "It's McKinley Dozen," he mouthed.

" _McKinley?_ " Logan mouthed back. "Ooh, he's a little bit of a jock, isn't he? I mean sure, theater kid at heart, but like, all that running and hiking..." Logan St. Bogan shuddered.

"I guess," Ben shrugged.

"Well, you know what _I_ heard through the grapevine," Logan whispered. "That Dozen's a bit of an _s-l-u-t_."

Ben's stomach dropped - that's what Susie had said too. He tightened his grip on the audition callback list as Logan continued.

"Like, I mean, it's only my second year here, but I know there are at least three dicks on that list you've got in your hands that he's seen. It's crazy too, like, most of the camp has _no_ idea he's gay, but the ones who do have mostly seen just how gay he is firsthand... or should I say first _hand-job_."

Ben swallowed and folded the paper without looking at it.

"So he's really... he's experienced," Ben muttered. _And he probably doesn't have time for guys who make him wait_ , Ben thought, sighing softly.

" _Obviously_ ," said Logan. "Not my type, though. I prefer a little more _meat_ on my guys, you know, a little something _more_ ," Logan said as he looked him up and down again. Ben shuffled a step away and gave him a small smile.

"Thanks for the uh, insight, Logan. And I think if you give it another go, I think you're gonna make a great Major General."

Logan stood up, beaming, and began singing so loud that some pottery shattered offstage. 

* * *

7:28 PM

About two minutes after Ben left the dinner table, Victor Pulak came bursting inside the canteen. He was covered in dirt and smelled heavily of manure, and McKinley thought he saw a pair of green eyes staring at him from somewhere in Victor's afro. Gene, who found this sight hilarious, laughed for a full three minutes before he decided to deliver trays of food to the tables by skipping to them, at which point Beth shooed Victor out of the canteen to take a shower. McKinley wondered how awful it was going to smell in the showers later.

Following dinner and the Week Two Revue callback auditions, McKinley took his campers with Katie and Lindsay's bunks to play volleyball before the campers' free time. Most of McKinley's friends at camp were guys, but he liked Katie, even if she was a little shallow. And Lindsay, despite actually being a 24 year old journalist, was the epitome of cool, and thus obviously needed to be McKinley's friend. The three of them sat on the picnic bench nearby the volleyball nets, watching as their campers' games unfolded. 

"So McKinley, you gonna come out to the campfire tonight?" Lindsay asked as she lit a cigarette. 

"Hell yeah," he smiled. "So you're for sure not gonna abandon us for Manhattan, Lindsay?"

"Nah, I need a break from the city," she said as she blew out wisps of smoke. "I went to camp out in Wisconsin for a couple summers when I was younger and I've always missed it, and this place is kind of incredible, you know? Plus, I'm gonna help the girls in my bunk learn how to pierce each others' ears. I know how to do it so that you don't get an infection or accidentally poke too big of a hole."

"That's rad," said Katie, who had been tossing a volleyball back and forth between her hands. "You should show me so I can show my bunk, too!"

"Totally!" Lindsay agreed just as a stray volleyball came hurtling in their direction. McKinley managed to smack it out of the way just before it pummeled Lindsay's nose.

"Sorry!" called a kid wearing a cape and thick glasses who came running towards them. "My apologies to the fair counselor maidens."

Lindsay rolled her eyes and Katie scoffed as the kid bowed and then ran back to his spot on the volleyball field. "So who are _you_ gonna try and hook up with, McKinley?" Katie asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Aw c'mon Katie, what makes you think that's my entire goal in life? Just because _you're_ gonna go with Andy..."

Katie blushed a deep red and tossed the volleyball a little faster. "So what if I am?" 

"Andy Fleckner is very cute, I'll give you that, sister," Lindsay mused, watching as a girl from her cabin spiked a volleyball right at one of McKinley's campers' faces. Katie finally threw her volleyball into the grass. 

"You haven't even answered my question McKinley," Katie huffed. "And look, I've been going to camp about as long as you have, and I have _never_ seen you with a date to  _anything_. You just show up and, like, dance really hard. Like, kudos on not being a total player or anything, but you gonna change things up this year?" 

McKinley smiled. "We'll see." As he said this, he noticed Ben in the distance, heading towards the arts and crafts barn with a stack of fabric in his arms. "Can you guys watch my kids for a bit? I have to run an errand." He leaped up from the picnic bench and jogged to the barn just as Ben walked inside. 

"Hey," he said as he reached the doorway.

The arts and craft barn was one of McKinley's favorite places, previously his haven between theater rehearsals and hikes as a camper, where he made all sorts of bracelets and outfits. Stacks of coloring utensils, paper, and paintbrushes lined the wooden shelves, and in the back corner there were drawers and drawers filled with every kind of yarn and string and bead and button and shell imaginable for making friendship bracelets. The scent of crayons and modeling clay hung heavy in the air. 

Currently, the barn was abandoned save for Ben and his stack of purple, gold, and red fabrics that he had set on an empty crafting table. He was looking particularly adorable at the moment, having changed into a pink sweater layered over a white polo. He looked up at McKinley and gave him a small smile. 

"McKinley, hey." Ben pulled a bolt of shiny scarlet material from the pile and began rolling it out on the table. "What are you doing here?" 

"I saw you and your fabric from across the volleyball field and thought I'd say hello, maybe help out a little," McKinley said, folding his arms and taking a few steps closer. "How were the callbacks?" 

"Fine, Andy's gonna be Frederic, and Katie will be Mabel. A group of kids from bunk 1 want to all be pirates, so I think most of them made the cut. IAbby Bernstein is gonna play Ruth." 

"Sounds great."

"Yeah," Ben said, measuring out a few yards worth of fabric. McKinley took another step forward. 

"So uh, there's a counselor campfire tonight after lights-out. You gonna go?" 

"Maybe," said Ben. He still hadn't looked up from the table.  _Something's off._

"You okay?" McKinley tried to catch Ben's eye, but Ben just turned around to find a pair of scissors. McKinley walked around the table to where Ben had started cutting a large square of fabric. "Ben, if there's something wrong, you can tell me." 

Silence for a few seconds. Then, in a low voice, Ben asked, "Do you really want to go with me?"

"Ben," McKinley said gently. "Why would you think I wouldn't want to go with you?" 

"It's... it's just-"

"Is this about the slut thing? From before? Look, it's true that um," McKinley blushed and briefly looked at his shoes. "That I've been with a lot of guys in the past. But Ben-"

"It's not that." Ben finally turned his head and met McKinley's gaze, his brow furrowed. "I don't care about how many guys there have been before me. I don't care how often you've done things, or with whom you've been."

McKinley half-smiled at Ben's impeccable grammar and unending lack of harsh judgment.

"It's just that I want to be with you, and know you, and every time I get to be around you I fall a little harder, but I was worried you might get bored with me because I'm so... inexperienced," Ben confessed, his voice just barely wavering. "I'm pretty sure I still kind of kiss like a, like a beached whale or something, and I don't want to make you have to wait for anything."

"Ben," McKinley sighed, taking Ben's hands in his. "I haven't wanted someone the way I want you, like, _ever_ , before. If all I could do was stand here and watch you cut fabric, or listen to you play music, or just be able to hear you tell me about your day, that would be enough. You're so much more than enough, no matter how fast or slow we take things. My feelings for you are important... like, they're bigger than me, you know?" 

"Yeah, I do," Ben whispered. He was grinning now, and McKinley could absolutely not stand _not_ holding Ben close for one more fucking second, so he pulled him in and did just that. 

"Just so you know, you don't kiss like a beached whale." 

"I don't?" 

"No," McKinley assured him. "Because when you kiss me I just feel warm all over, like I'm in the right place." 

Ben didn't say anything and just hugged McKinley tighter. "I'll go to the campfire with you," he finally said into McKinley's neck. "I'll be your date." 

"I can't wait," said McKinley as they broke apart. "You want me to work on any of this with you before I go?"

"I might ask you for help when I start sewing the pants tomorrow, but I think you have a volleyball game to supervise," Ben smiled. 

"Right... damn campers... those 12 tiny details," McKinley cursed. "So I'll see you tonight then?"

"Yeah. You wanna come by my bunk?"

"Sure. I'll be there at ten." 

"Perfect," said Ben. McKinley grinned headed for the door, and just as he was about to step back outside he felt a hand on his wrist that tugged him backwards, turned him around, and directed him right into Ben's arms. And there in the doorway, they shared a gentle kiss, a kiss that made McKinley feel warm all over, a kiss that made him know he was in exactly the right place.

* * *

11:18 PM

That night at the counselor campfire, McKinley picked Ben up from his bunk after Ben successfully convinced Susie to leave before him with Lindsay, Becky, and Danny. They enjoyed a slow walk over to the fire pit in the forest, intermittently stopping to kiss and laugh in the dark, and agreed to minimize their PDA to avoid having to deal with any closeted homophobes. This night's campfire was every bit as boozy as the campfires during training week. Beth, who had arrived with a can of mixed vegetables taped to her sweater, seemed to be drinking more than usual and intermittently crying. Victor Pulak blasted Jefferson Starship from his boom box, Neil and McKinley immediately shotgunned two beers and started dancing, Katie and Andy showed up with their arms and tongues around each other, and Susie quickly pulled Ben next to her to make s'mores. The evening ensued per usual with dancing and joking and mosquito bites, though Susie was particularly handsy and Ben had to dodge more of her kisses than he preferred.

"Suze, we broke up, remember?" he whispered to her for the sixth time as Lindsay was took off her shirt off and the rest of the counselors screamed in celebration.

"I...yeah, buhhhht... buhh I love youuuuu," she slurred, trying again to put her arms around him. "Yer naaht _really_ with McKinley, are you?" Ben looked up to see McKinley whooping and doing some kind of hip thrust in unison with Andy. McKinley's drunk dancing could best be described as 'enthusiastic flailing,' but somehow his very, _very_ lame moves were kind of a turn on when Ben was buzzed.

"We broke up, Susie." She frowned at him and took a long swig of her beer. So it was at this point, with his head just beginning to spin and the image of McKinley's hips stuck in his brain, that Ben announced he would leave. As he stood up and said his goodbyes, he heard McKinley say something to Gary across the campfire about feeling too drunk and needing to go throw up somewhere, and he smiled.  _Just like we planned it_ , he thought. Once they were both on the path that led back to camp, Ben stopped walking long enough for McKinley to catch up with him. 

"Hey, uh, so are you actually that drunk?"

"Nah," McKinley shook his head. "A little buzzed, certainly, but not drunk anymore. I think I reached my peak half an hour ago. You?"

"Me too," Ben grinned. "I can't stop thinking about your dancing."

"I know, I'm amazing, right?" They started laughing and began strolling back to camp, stumbling occasionally.

"You're the best date ever," Ben said once they reached a clearing behind the lakehouse. Fireflies were out in droves, twinkling and spinning around them, and Ben wondered if it were actually possible for a summer night to be more romantic than this one.

"You're not bad either," McKinley playfully poked Ben's shoulder.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," said McKinley. Ben stopped walking and took a deep breath. 

"Would you maybe want to be my boyfriend?" 

McKinley didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Definitely."

Then, as suddenly as their relationship was made official, Ben was kissing McKinley, and McKinley was kissing Ben, deeply, maybe a little sloppily, but Ben didn't care. He left his first hickey at the join of McKinley's neck and collarbone, which he mostly was proud of because it made McKinley make a throaty, delicious noise he hadn't heard him make before. Every kiss tasted like marshmallows and beer, and when their jaws grew sore, Ben sat down with McKinley outside the lakehouse to talk and stargaze. It was then that Ben learned McKinley's favorite color was red, and that his favorite food was mac and cheese, and that he wasn't very religious but liked lighting menorahs anyway, and that his favorite musical was _Pippin,_ and that his sister's name was Jenny, and that he would never enough of getting to know his new boyfriend.


	6. Interlude II: June 28, 1980 - Second Day of Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One day into camp, and McKinley was already wiping cum off his fingers. This had to be a new record for him, as this was probably the fastest he had ever gone from meeting someone to making them moan his name at Camp Firewood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude II, McKinley-focused flashback. NSFW. I suppose I should tag this as underage but considering their actual characters are played by 40-year-olds... whatever.
> 
> In my mind, Zachary something-or-other would 100% be played by James Marsden.

_12:12 PM_

_As usual, it was McKinley who made the first move. They had met during lunch yesterday, and as soon McKinley caught Zachary something-or-other checking out his legs in his tallest pair of tube socks, he knew he'd be arranging a rendez-vous for them sooner rather than later. It was how, about 24 hours after meeting, Zachary and McKinley wound up sitting on the floor of the shed, their bare backs against the dusty wooden walls._

_"Oh god, oh my GOD, oh my god," whined Zachary something-or-other, his light blue eyes unblinking and focused intently on what was going on between his legs._

_McKinley smirked. He had been tugging Zachary's dick for a little while now, and it took about five more seconds for Zachary to squeeze his eyes shut, shudder, and come with a groan. McKinley loved the feeling of skin pulsating under his fingers like this, confirming once again his insatiable desire for fresh dick._

_For a little while, the two of them sat in silence save for the sounds of Zachary something-or-other catching his breath and McKinley fumbling for tissues._

_One day into camp, and McKinley was already wiping cum off his fingers. This had to be a new record for him, as this was probably the fastest he had ever gone from meeting someone to making them moan his name at Camp Firewood._

_Zachary something-or-other finally opened his eyes, yanked his shorts up from his ankles, and smiled an enormous, toothy smile._

_McKinley didn't remember Zachary something-or-other's last name and didn't intend to learn it, because he'd be done with this guy for the summer in a matter of minutes. He was nice enough, and certainly hot - he had the trifecta of wavy brown hair, light blue eyes, and a swimmer's build going for him. Still, the body and the face and the noises Zachary something-or-other made wouldn't be enough to keep McKinley interested for more than maybe an hour or two. The thing was that Zachary something-or-other tended to talk too much about boring shit when his mouth wasn't preoccupied, and McKinley simply didn't have time to listen to boring shit when the summer offered so much more to do instead._

_"Your turn," the kid flashed his teeth, then set to kissing along McKinley's neck._

_"Fuck," McKinley growled as Zachary something-or-other unceremoniously plunged his hand into his running shorts and began jerking him off. It was kind of nice, McKinley thought, to be with someone who was experienced. A lot of times McKinley came across guys at Camp Firewood who had only recently decided to come out, or who hadn't (at least not publicly), and he had to do a lot of the work to train them in the art of non-masturbatory orgasms._

_Zachary something-or-other worked McKinley's shorts down his legs and, without ceremony, started to suck McKinley off. It only took him a minute or so two come after that, which was nice because he really, really needed it. Back in Staten Island, McKinley's parents and sister knew he was gay, but most of his classmates didn't, and he certainly wasn't about to tell anybody at Congregation B'nai Jeshurun how much he liked dick. Nearly all of his sexual exploits, thus, had to take place while he was away at camp._

_When McKinley finally slowed his breathing, Zachary something-or-other was still watching him._

_"What?"_

_"Oh, I dunno," he grinned. "I like the face you make when you come."_

_"Fantastic," McKInley muttered, cleaning himself off before getting his clothes back on. "Welp, we're done here. See you 'round, uh... Zachariah-"_

_"Zachary, Zachary Leibowitz."_

_ "Whatever," McKinley sighed. "I have to go to the rope course."  _

_ "But-" Zachary leapt up from the ground and tugged his t-shirt on backwards as McKinley headed for the shed door. "But that was, like, unbelievably good. Insanely good! I've only been with a couple other guys before, and you're the best by far. Don't you wanna do it again?"  
_

_ McKinley glanced at Zachary's eager face and the hand that was creeping towards his and rolled his eyes. "I don't really  do boyfriends, Zachary, so if you're thinking just because I made you come on the second day of camp that I might be your summer sweetheart, I suggest you look elsewhere. Counselor Roberto from bunk 12, perhaps? Or perhaps that one theater counselor?"   _

_ Zachary spent about three seconds looking thoroughly insulted, and then asked,"Wait... but I thought Ben was dating the other theater counselor, Susie, right? He's gay?"  _

_ "I mean, probably. I've never said a word to the guy and even I can tell he's not of the straight world. You gotta work on that, kid - your gay-intuition."  _

_ "R-right..." Zachary looked at his shoes. "Well, I guess I'll see you around, McKinley. Thanks for the tip about Ben!" _

_ "Who?" _

_ "The theater counselor!" _

  
_"Right," McKinley muttered. As he trudged to the rope course, passing a gaggle of campers who seemed to be very excited about the lack of mystery meat in the canteen, McKinley chuckled to himself. There was no way Zachary something-or-other could ever possibly hit it off with that hot theater counselor. He was way out of everybody's leagues, anyway._

__


	7. July 4th, 1981 - Eleventh Day, Second Week of Camp, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the glow of pink sunrise behind him, McKinley looked like some sort of otherworldly, sexy camp god. Like... a slightly less buff, way more Jewish Fabio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 1 of 2. First part is SFW, second part NSFW. Alternating McKinley and Ben-focused sections.

7:12 AM

Ben spent the first few minutes of breakfast staring out the far windows, where the sun progressively peeked over the tops of the trees and momentarily shaded the clouds pink. He timed this exactly as he had every summer, so that even in the midst of buzzing campers and counselors wolfing down their respective meals, he felt like he was the single, most fantastic person on earth for a little while. Of _course_ Ben loved camp and just about everybody _at_ camp, but he savored these moments of clarity that allowed him to breathe and reflect.

To his delight, for the past nine mornings, Ben had another early sight to take in that was just as bright and beautiful as the sunrise: McKinley Dozen. Each day, he would stroll into the canteen with his socks pulled up to his knees and his hair flopping in his face with 12 very hyper boys in tow. Today was no different.

"Alright, if any of you are coming to running club, we're meeting outside the canteen at 8. Hiking group is at 9, ropes at 10, soccer at 11:15 before lunch. If you're not coming, well, as always, you're lame. Somebody tell Arty that they have pancake bites for breakfast, alright? I think he fell asleep in the radio shack. Now go away, I can't stand the sight of you all," McKinley instructed his campers, who collectively shrieked and took their places in the breakfast line. Ben watched McKinley cross the canteen until he stood at the bench opposite him. 

"Morning," McKinley grinned. With the glow of pink sunrise behind him, McKinley looked like some sort of otherworldly, sexy camp god. Like... a slightly less buff, way more Jewish Fabio.

"Hey," Ben smiled up at him.

"This seat taken?"

"By you," Ben grinned, stirring his tea without taking his eyes off of his boyfriend -  _boyfriend_ , Ben thought.  _I_   _still can't believe this is happening_.

McKinley hopped onto the bench and took one of the four bananas Ben had taken from the fruit bin.

"So, you getting excited for tonight?"

Ben nodded and coughed as he swallowed what was probably too large of a banana chunk. "Um, yeah. A little nervous, to be honest. It feels like everything still hasn't come together."

Without hesitation, McKinley reached across the table, took Ben's hand in his, and squeezed it tight.

"Susie is still recruiting some people to be backup dancers now," Ben continued. He glanced behind them at Susie, who was harassing the bunk 7 kids to join the theater by waving her signup clipboard in their faces and shouting "Focus up!" She had been refusing to sit with him during meals anymore, instead simply being polite with him during the Revue rehearsals. McKinley sighed as Ben turned back around.

"It's gonna be great, Ben," he said softly. "You're the best producer Camp Firewood has had around in a long time."

Ben blushed and looked down at McKinley's fingers laced between his, fitting perfectly like always. "Thanks, McKinley. It's just, well, Susie is getting a little worked up over the details, but I think the Revue is going to go great. Logan St. Bogan is an _awesome_ Major General. You ready for your part?"

"Of course," McKinley said with a wink. Ben thought this was one of the funniest jokes he had ever invented, because McKinley, of course, was not acting. Rather, he had been making several mermaid and otherwise sea-faring costumes for the Week Two Revue including the spectacular Modern Major General suit. He had crafted a helmet and several pirate hooks out of papier-mâché, and had painstakingly sewn on all of the gold buttons he could find in the Arts 'n' Crafts building. The show would go on that evening at 7:30 PM.

They continued to chat until the electric guitar sounded to get everyone out of the canteen and on to their morning activities, at which point McKinley finally had to let go of Ben's hand. No less than four seconds later, two voices sounded in unison-

"Hey nerds!" Ben's stomach dropped as J.J. and Gary took seats on either side of him.

"Sup, Dick-inley?" J.J. asked. 

"Nothing much Jary, Gay-Gay," McKinley said, high fiving them both. Ben wondered how McKinley could be so cool, so devoid of nerves, successfully revealing nothing of their relationship to his friends day after day. 

"And you, Ben-Gurion? How are the bananas? Careful - you eat too many of those and people could start getting ideas..." 

Ben swallowed.

"Ah you know I'm kiddin," J.J. clapped him on the shoulder. "So is that Revue ready for tonight? You  _know_  I love a good theater production."

"I do know," Ben smiled. "I think this one is really gonna change some lives." 

"Excellent!" J.J. exclaimed. 

"Gene told me he's so excited for it that he's bringing a literal barrel of popcorn," Gary informed them. "He also mentioned something about wanting to bring the fridge with him."

"The fridge? Why?" asked Ben.

"He gets hungry, I guess. The guy just can't get enough of live theater and he's gotta have his snacks." 

"Wait, did you say he's got a barrel for popcorn?" McKinley asked. "Where does he get barrels?" 

"I think he keeps them in the back near the pickle jars." 

"Let's keep that in mind," J.J. said, lowering his voice. "We're gonna need to steal some of 'em for our prank. You in, McKinley?"

"Always," he said. "How bout you, Ben?"

Ben froze mid-bite, staring into McKinley's eyes.

"Oh... I don't know if-"

"Nonsense!" Gary clapped him on the back. "You gotta join us." 

McKinley shrugged his shoulders as Ben nervously balled his hands into fists and nodded.

"So he's in! Really shows how badass you are, Ben," McKinley said.

"Right on!" J.J. agreed. Ben smiled at him and then at McKinley, who watched, grinning, as J.J. and Gary high-fived him until his hands stung.

10:47 AM 

When he was a camper, the ropes course had been McKinley's favorite part of camp. Well, his favorite outside of running club. He liked to race to the top of the poles against Gary and J.J. because he usually won. The ropes course was cool on hot days, shaded by the forest canopy, and provided much-needed relief from the endless field Frisbee games that McKinley loathed. 

As a counselor, the ropes course was a  _fucking nightmare_. 

The kids seemed to like to nearly fall off the courses almost every second, which was very annoying when one was trying to enjoy themselves. The Goldberg twins kept racing each other up the dangling rock wall, which jostled the alpine tower ladders, which knocked another kid onto the ground. Luckily, Coop was there to break his fall. He didn't like to admit it publicly, but McKinley did, in fact, like kids, and did care a little bit about the possibility of them falling to their deaths. 90% of being a camp counselor was for the goofing off and the pranks and the drunk, s'mores-filled nights dancing by the fire, but the other 10% was hanging out with a bunch of weirdo campers, and frankly, McKinley loved it. 

"Alright kids, let's take five," Beth announced.

The campers slowly made their way down while Katie screamed "right foot, left foot" to them so that they wouldn't go too fast, and snatched most of the packets of animal crackers Beth had brought for them. 

"Hey Katie," Coop suddenly said, rubbing the place on his back where Pinchus Faberberg had landed on him.  

"Uh, hey Coop," she rolled her eyes and continued chatting with Beth. 

Coop swore under his breath and tore open his packet of animal crackers, which spilled into the dirt. 

"GAWD!" Coop shouted. McKinley shrugged at the confused looks Beth and Katie gave them, and quietly encouraged Coop to pick up his damn animal crackers like a man. 

"Katie, I think we're about done here, so if you could go check on the waterfront and make sure Andy isn't asleep on the boat again, that would be great." 

"Sure thing," Katie smiled and trotted off. Coop waved at her backside until she disappeared from view. 

"Man you've got it bad for her," McKinley noted.

"Ya think?"

"You kind of turned into a total idiot just now, Coop."

"Oh, not like _you_ don't turn into one around Ben," Coop spat. 

Beth turned around, her eyes wide.

"What's that?"

"Uh, nothing, just Coop being an idiot, _again_." 

"McKinley, McKinley, McKinley..." Beth took slow steps towards him with her hands on her hips and a smirk on her face. She poked him in the chest. " _You_ have a boyfriend, dontcha?" 

"I... um-" McKinley rubbed the back of his neck as he blushed. 

"You DO have a boyfriend! You-you're dating Ben? Sweet, theater-production-producing Ben?" 

"...yes." 

Beth was hugging McKinley so fast that he felt his head spinning, and when Coop joined in for a group hug, McKinley finally caved and hugged them both back. 

"Can you like, not advertise it, though? Some people might get jealous. Also... some people might beat the shit out of us."

"Well of  _course_  I won't, McKinley. This is something special that you don't need to share unless you want to. I'm so darned _happy_ for you two, though! All grown up, and it's all thanks to Camp Firewood!" She shed a single tear and blinked it out of her eyes as she went in for another hug.

After Beth finished crying and hugging and muttering about Mitch, she instructed McKinley and Coop to close up the ropes course and meet back to teach some soccer before lunch.

"So what's it like to have a boyfriend?"

McKinley smiled as he rolled up one of the rope ladders. "Nice. He's probably the most innocent person that works here, honestly. It's refreshing... like, when I'm with him, I don't worry about anything."

"Aww," Coop sighed as he clicked the lock on the alpine tower base. "Have you guys done it yet?" 

" _What?_ "

"Have you, y'know..."

McKinley narrowed his eyes as Coop did a couple of pitiful hip thrusts.

"No... and I'm not _going_ to do that until it's right."

"You're not, ya know, bored waiting for that or anything?"

"Not at all," McKinley assured him. "It's the weirdest thing. I just know I won't really want to do it until _he_ does."

"McKinley, I had no idea you were so classy!"

"Classiest fucker here, dude. Well, besides Lindsay."

"That girl is  _definitely_ classy. How come she's classier than you? You're both from New York." 

They finished up at the ropes course, considering exactly how much geography affected one's classiness, and made their way back to the soccer field. As they walked, McKinley daydreamed about the moment it _would_ be right to go a little farther with Ben, because he knew, whenever it happened, it was going to be incredible.

12:28 PM

"This is LUDICROUS!" 

Ben rolled his eyes. Susie had been shouting this throughout their rehearsal, moreso now because, apparently, every single one of the pirate hooks they had for the show had gone missing. They had already been at it for a few hours and the campers, currently set up in their pirate gear and snapping each other's elastic eyepatches, were overdue for lunch.

"Suze, I'm sure they'll turn up-" Ben tried to assure her. He was only  _really_ concerned because McKinley had spent so long making the hooks in the first place, and _of course_ he didn't want his boyfriend's hard work to go to waste. 

"I cannot BELIEVE that somebody would steal a set of 12 perfectly good, handcrafted theater hooks! How many ama _teurs_ does this camp bring in every year? I feel like it's just more and more each summer!"

"Alright guys, let's maybe take some time for lunch and we can get back to it after we get some food-"

"Absolutely _not_!" Susie interrupted Ben, glaring at him. "We are going on an all-out search for our theater hooks and will NOT rest until they are safely on your little punk hands," she growled at the gaggle of tired campers.

"But Counselor Susie," whined Melvin Fitz in his Medieval British accent, shuffling up to her from the line of eyepatched campers. "We're dying out there! Logan St. Bogan's tongue is totally tied from the tongue-twisters for the Modern Major General," he gestured towards Logan, who was rubbing his jaw and whimpering at the edge of the stage. "We've run through _A Pirate's Life_ four times and, really, with all this seafaring talk, we're now all hungry for fish sticks."

"FIND THE HOOKS, DAMMIT!"

The campers collectively sighed and set to work around the theater barn. Susie sent a team of kids with Ben to search the rest of camp, as she suspected a group of hooligans (her words) likely were going to use the hooks for some sort of prank.

"You _know_ we'd never be missing these hooks if _you_ hadn't insisted on a pirate theme for this," Susie told Ben before he left.

"Susie, I'm sure they'll turn up." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Tonight's going to be amazing, okay?"

Susie softened and uncrossed her arms.

"It'll be more amazing if we have the hooks." As Susie speed-walked away, Ben smiled. This was the nicest she had been to him since he told her he was in love with McKinley. He really did want to be friends with her again - it didn't make sense to throw away years of camp theater partnership just because of newly blossomed romance. 

Ben trekked with his team of campers to the art building, then the lake house, then the shed, and even to some of the nearby bunks without any luck. They tapped on the serving window in the canteen only to be screamed at by Gene who, startled by the intrusion, dropped the can of mixed vegetables he had been talking to into the French fry fryers.

"YOU MADE ME DO THIS" he shouted through tears, frantically searching for any nearby object with which he could fish it out. They backed away slowly as Gene emerged from the back of the kitchen with what had to be a 6 foot long fishing pole. 

"It's hopeless, Ben, we're just gonna be a bunch of hookless pirates," lamented Jane Schumeister from cabin 8. who looked particularly forlorn from behind the fake brown beard she decided to wear for that afternoon's rehearsal.

"It'll be okay Jane - er, able seawoman," Ben smiled at her. "What do we always say?"

"Arrrrrr! The show must go on!" She flashed a toothy grin up at him and ran after the other bearded girls in their pirate search party.

As Ben rounded the corner of the mess hall, he heard shouting and laughing coming from Coop's cabin. Their group rushed towards it, and as they approached they saw five tearful campers and one Victor Pulak suspended from the front porch, pleading for help. Before them stood three kids from Coop's cabin - one with red hair, one with a bandanna, and another with swoopy hair - waving their pirate hook-bedecked hands and taunting their helpless fellow campers. 

" _Hey!_ " Ben shouted with what he hoped was a convincing angry-counselor voice. The three kids whipped around, dropped their hooks, and bolted away. The gang of bearded pirate girls in Ben's search party whooped and followed them, chasing them into the nearby forest. Ben and Melvin Fitz set to work helping the captives out of their pirate hook wedgies. 

"Counselor Victor, what happened?" Melvin Fitz asked with grave concern as Ben hoisted Victor off the porch. To Ben's dismay each of the hooks that the campers had been wedgied with were now broken under the weight of the captives. 

"Ambush," Victor said, wincing as he rubbed his backside. "We were heading over to play badminton and those little freaks show up with a bunch of freakin' pirate hooks!" 

"Victor," Ben frowned, looking at the now broken pirate hook from which he had been suspended. "How'd you let this happen? Those kids are just a bunch of little bullies! And McKinley did such good work on these hooks and you went and broke them!" 

"I'm sorry, I'm not typically as concerned with papier-mâché when I'm being personally victimized. Besides, the ones those little twerps had on their hands are still fine!" 

Ben gathered the hooks, half of them bent and broken. He was greeted with shouts of outrage from Susie and the rest of the theater company back at the theater barn. McKinley showed up at the theater barn just as he did, still a little sweaty from soccer practice. 

"Hey guys," he said, approaching Ben and Susie. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner, our last game went into double overtime because kids kept calling all these rules that Yaron taught them. Didn't that guy leave, like, weeks ago?"

Ben gestured at the pile of broken hooks in his arms and grimaced. 

"What'd you do to my hooks, Ben?" He teased. "Bent them all out of shape." 

"Some kids from Coop's bunk were using them for bullying purposes." 

McKinley knit his eyebrows together and took the hooks from Ben's arms. After looking at them thoughtfully for a moment or two, he finally looked back up at him

"I think I can salvage these," he assured Susie, who, instead of calling him a 'hussy,' muttered a few words of thanks under her breath and finally allowed the rest of the campers to go to lunch. 

"Susie, why don't you come eat with us?"

She glanced up at McKinley as he asked this question but didn't look away from her theater binder. 

"I dunno... I have a lot of material to look over before we start afternoon rehearsal." 

"Suze, you gotta eat," Ben argued. "And I hear they have tater tots today. You have such a good recipe for them, and I'm sure everyone will miss it!" It was true - Susie, a honey mustard aficionado, had perfected the ratio of the honey packets and yellow mustard that she made on tater tot days during her second summer as a camper. She had then followed with a tradition of dispersing it to the campers as word of her legendary dip spread throughout the camp each summer. 

She finally cracked a smile, the first Ben had seen in days, and followed him and McKinley back to the canteen. 

 


End file.
